Cross Your Heart
by Bluesunkatsuri
Summary: Born as a member of the Teutonic Order in 1192, told he isn't human in 1211. Prussia's life has been a search for the truth from the start. Finding yourself is never easy, especially if it's the person you least want to be. *Part 3 of Historical Hetalia, part 1 of Prussian/German history*
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back with a new part in the Historical Hetalia series!  
 _Cross Your Heart_ will follow Prussia throughout history, from the early Middle Ages to the late 19th century. The beginning, however, will be more about him figuring out certain things than actual history (because of the lack of clear sources I unfortunately have, for one), but once I don't have to study a month to write one proper chapter, it will be filled with more history as well.  
The lay-out will be a bit different from my previous stories, as there is quite a number of _centuries_ that I have to fit into this fic, and even if every chapter represented a year, I wouldn't be done in _years_. I figured this would work best with time skips like there will be in this story, to make it less confusing.**

 **Still, historically accurate enough or not, I hope you'll like this story. I'll do my best!  
It's part 3 of Historical Hetalia, but part 1 and 2 (Rising&Trouble) deal with Irish history and have nothing to do with this story, so they can easily be read seperately. There might be some overlap when it comes to characters or certain events mentioned, but if you haven't read either Rising or Trouble, you'll be just fine. I'll make sure it won't get confusing**

 **Well, I've rambled on enough now... Let's start off with my latest fanfic: Cross Your Heart**

* * *

 _1 August 1211_

 _I decided it's best if I keep practicing my writing wherever I go, so I assembled an empty book for me to write in. I've seen too many hands grow rusty as they held only a sword and no quill. I will not let that happen to me -the ability to write and read is a gift bestowed upon me, and I will not let it go to waste._  
 _So I have hereby decided to keep a daily record of my travels and crusades. It is also a useful way for me to remember important details of my journeys, and to report back to the headquarters in Acre whenever necessary._  
 _So, as a report of my travels: we left the headquarters in Acre 9 days ago, going north. We were asked to aid the Hungarians in their battle against the Kipchaks. Well, I'm happy to -since it is mercenary work, there will be a reward, and the Order needs such things now. Also, since we're travelling to the north, I'm getting closer to my birthplace -or so I was told. I honestly don't remember. All I know is that, 19 years ago, I was given to this Order to be looked after by the knights by my father. He was, apparently, an honourable person, and highly esteemed, else they wouldn't have accepted me._

 _And that brings me to the second topic I wish to write about. My appearance and in fact entire biology seems to startle the other knights still, even after they've raised me and, in some cases, spent the last few years growing up side by side with me._  
 _But though I am 19 years old, I don't look the part. 7 is what most people estimate me as. 8 perhaps. Why is it, that I am a man, yet look like a child? And not only a child -I look like a demon, or so I've been told. A ghost. But the point is, I don't feel like I am a monster, a demon, a creature from Hell, as my pale complexion and red eyes seem to suggest._  
 _I've heard other knights talk about me, spreading rumours of other people that look like me. They don't grow very old, either, but for entirely different reasons -they die before they reach adulthood, in most cases. Either they'd be killed for their demonic appearance or they'd burn in the sunlight, dying of a strange illness. But none of that has happened to me yet._  
 _So, since I look this unusual, and also do not grow old at a normal pace and don't die of the mysterious illness killing off other people like me... are they right? Am I a demon? I do not know, and also do not think I'll ever know._  
 _For now I should be grateful that I was granted the chance to live, and serve the Lord to the best of my abilities. And I should focus on my current task -to defend the Kingdom of Hungary._

"Gilbert, are you done writing?" called a man in his late twenties, wearing a long white mantle with a black cross on it. The signature attire of the Teutonic Knights. The boy looked up, nodded, put away his ink and quill, lastly put his book in his bag, and ran after the rest of his Order. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "I've decided to write daily -keep a record of what we encounter on our journeys."  
The man laughed and patted the boy on the head. "That's very nice, Gilbert. I'm sure the Grand Master would appreciate your efforts."  
"Well," Gilbert huffed, having clearly heard the sarcasm in the older man's voice. "I have been taught to write, and I'm not planning on letting my skills get rusty anytime soon. That would just be ungrateful."  
"Then I hope you have enough parchment to last you through the journey," was the man's only response. Gilbert huffed again, but he wasn't angry. This man, Frederick, was one of his favourites among the knights. Though in truth he was only 9 years older, the man was a bit like a father to him, or an older brother at least. Whatever they said and did to each other was more teasing than anything else, and they rarely got angry with each other. Other than with some of the men, who distrusted and even despised Gilbert for all the reasons he'd written down in his journal. But even so, they all travelled and fought alongside each other without too many problems. Gilbert had been given the formal attire of a Teutonic Knight years ago, and a blacksmith in Acre had been ordered to smith him a miniature sword -its size somewhere between that of an actual sword and a dagger. He'd tried to fight using Frederick's sword once, but it was too long and, though he didn't like admitting that part, _too heavy_ for his small body to work with. He was clumsy and stumbled with every movement. But even so, once provided with a dagger, he'd proved to be an agile, skilled warrior, and was thus given a weapon of his own by the Grand Master of their Order.

"We'll be in Turkic territory by tomorrow," Gilbert inquired after a few minutes of silence, "won't we?" Frederick nodded. _And from there on,_ Gilbert thought, _it's 3 weeks, roughly, until we reach Greece. After that, we should reach the Southern border of Hungary within 2 weeks._ Well, that should be managable. A total of little less than 7 weeks until they reached Hungary. They had enough provisions for that, and once they reached Hungary, they should be provided with more to last them through the battles yet to be fought. When he spoke his estimation out loud, Frederick, and some other men, too, laughed softly, but they didn't even try to correct him.

* * *

 _26 October 1211_

 _Okay, so my estimations were_ _horribly_ _wrong. Following my calculations, we should've arrived in Hungary by late September, instead of just yesterday -when we were so busy travelling to King Andrew II and his army that I didn't find the time to write._  
 _But that doesn't matter. We're here now, aren't we? In just a few days we'll be ready to do our job and defend Hungary._  
 _Speaking of Hungary, something very odd happened early this afternoon when we met with King Andrew II and his army..._

Gilbert and the Teutonic Knights had just arrived, and the three elder members of the Order were discussing business with the Hungarian king, while he and the others settled. Some Hungarian knights were there, too, giving them directions, some making small talk with the Teutonics to get to know their new allies. Gilbert had noticed for some time now a young boy, hardly a year or 2 older than himself (well, his appearance at least) among them, and for a moment he thought the boy was just lost, or helping out an older brother or his father, one of the knights. Perhaps he was an apprentice. He had also noticed the stares that boy gave him, and every time he saw him staring he turned away, feeling his cheeks grow hot with embarassment. That's why he hated meeting new people -no one could ever treat him normally! He was waiting for protests from the Hungarians about why the Teutonic Knights had a demon in their ranks. So far they had kept quiet, but that boy wasn't the only one sending him weird stares.  
"I don't like it here," he complained softly to Frederick, who was helping him set up a tent. The man just smiled understandingly, and said nothing. "They're all looking at me..." Gilbert huffed. "No doubt wondering which sort of exorcism they'll need to get rid of me."  
"They're not that bad, I'm sure," Frederick reassured him gently. "Once they know you're one of us, they'll treat you just as anyone else does."  
"Oh, because _that_ would make me _sooo_ happy!" Gilbert muttered, and then he sighed, apologizing for his mood. He was tired after the long months of travelling, and how the other people treated him right now wasn't helping.

"Hey!" suddenly came a voice behind him, and he jumped in shock. Spinning around, he saw the Hungarian boy standing before him with a sheepish grin and twinkling green eyes. "You're a pretty weird kid, aren't you?" the boy then said, making Gilbert's mood a million times worse. But the boy smiled despite his harsh words, continuing, "How'd you get red eyes like that? And your hair is white! That's so... _weird_. But I like it."  
"Well," Gilbert muttered in response, taken aback by this. "T-thanks." He heard Frederick chuckle, but the man didn't say anything.  
"So, are you an apprentice?" the boy asked him, and he shook his head. "Oh! You're already a knight, then!" Gilbert nodded, determined to keep his mouth shut. He really didn't want to talk to this nosy kid. "How old are you?"  
"I'm 19 years old," he mumbled softly, and the boy asked him again, adding that he hadn't heard. But then Gilbert didn't dare answer anymore, relieved that he hadn't been heard. Telling these people his actual age was the best way to antagonize them, most likely. They wouldn't understand.  
"Well," the boy said, standing tall and proud for a moment. "I'm already 316 years old!" Gilbert spun around to face him again after he'd fastened a piece of the tent he was setting up. Was this kid insane or what? "I was born in the year 895. And you?"  
"I-in 1192," Gilbert stammered in response, still eyeing the boy curiously. Yes, he must be insane. No one was that old. But the boy then stared at him with the same wide-eyed curiosity as he did the boy, a strange sparkle in his eyes that Gilbert couldn't quite figure out. "Wow, you're young. Anyway, my name's Hungary. Nice to meet you!"  
For a moment, Gilbert could only stare at this weird boy, and his voice wouldn't come to him. When it did, it came a bit louder than he'd wanted it to. "H- _Hungary?!_ " he exclaimed, taking a step away from the boy. "You can't be Hungary! Hungary is a _kingdom!_ "  
"But I am," Hungary insisted, tilting his head a little, surprised at Gilbert's shock. "And I know I'm a kingdom. I've been one since the year-"  
"-since the year 1000," Gilbert choked out, interrupting him. Hungary nodded, saying that from the day of his birth until Christmas 1000, he'd been a principality instead. The young Teutonic Knight stared at him, gaping, choking out random sounds. No, right? He couldn't be serious.  
"Well," Hungary then said, shuffling on his feet a bit and looking over his shoulder. "I really should be heading to the King now -he'll need me for arrangements. I'll see you around, won't I...?" Just when he'd turned around to leave, he looked over his shoulder questioningly. "What's your name?" For a moment, Gilbert still couldn't talk, but then choked out his name. Hungary laughed softly at his tone, then waved and ran away. "Well, see you later then, Gilbert!"

"Well, Gilbert," came Frederick's amused voice a few seconds after Hungary disappeared from sight. "I think you'll have a new friend here, after all." Gilbert spun around and faced his old friend, seething with anger and confusement. "I'm not going to be friends with that insane kid!" he protested. "Never!"  
Frederick shrugged. "Pity. He's the only one that has bothered to talk to you yet, and he seems friendly enough. Though I agree that he's a little weird. It must've been a joke, don't worry." Silently, the two continued working again, finishing setting up this tent quickly and then moving on to the next. By the time the sun set, the camp was ready, and a fire was lit, around which the Teutonic Knights gathered as they were given orders by the Hungarian king and their elder members. But Gilbert was hardly listening. His mind was with Hungary, or whatever the boy was called. He must be insane, because his eyes had looked honest when he'd told Gilbert his name and age. He really believed that he was 316 years old, and that he was the Kingdom of Hungary. He saw the boy sitting a little way off, and his stomach twisted when he saw that he sat beside King Andrew. He was of really high status, to sit beside his monarch...

* * *

The evening passed and night fell, and Gilbert was about to go into a tent to write in his journal and go to sleep, when he heard an already achingly familiar voice call him. A shiver going down his spine, he turned around and saw Hungary approaching him. "Hey," the Hungarian boy greeted Gilbert, though with less enthusiasm than that afternoon. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" Reluctantly, Gilbert nodded, saying they should go into a tent to talk. Hungary's presence chilled him more than the night air did, and he dreaded every footstep he heard behind him. He didn't want to look over his shoulder and see this weird kid, but then he suddenly realised something. This must be how other people felt around him, too. Knowing this, he felt sick for a few heartbeats, but then he calmed. People were weird around him, too, but he was perfectly normal. He should probably give this kid a chance.  
Once inside, they sat down, and Gilbert lit a candle. The light of the flame falling into Hungary's eyes made them appear almost as red as Gilbert's own, and that somehow made him feel better. In here, right now, they were equals.  
"Gilbert," Hungary began in utter seriousness, staring the young knight in the eyes. "Gilbert, do your wounds heal quickly? Quicker than those of other knights?" Startled, Gilbert nodded. How did this boy know about that? Had one of the elders talked about him? "Then," Hungary went on, his voice quivering a little, "do you sometimes feel weird pains as well? A-at times you wouldn't expect to feel pain?" Again, Gilbert nodded, explaining how other knights passed it off as growing pains. But he knew it wasn't -he hadn't really been growing for some time now. Hungary gave a solemn nod, falling silent for just a moment. "You're 19 years old, right?" he eventually went on, and again Gilbert confirmed this. "But you look like a little kid, just like me..." His eyes lit up as he got an idea, apparently, because he turned to Gilbert and began fidgeting in excitement. "Gilbert!" he exclaimed. "Could you cut me? A small cut in my hand would be enough."  
"What?" the Teutonic Knight choked out, thoroughly confused. "You want me to cut you?" Hungary only nodded and held out his hand. Reluctantly, Gilbert grabbed his small sword and drew it carefully over the palm of the boy's hand. Together they watched blood ooze out of the small cut, but unlike Gilbert's, who was baffled by all this, Hungary's eyes began shining as the blood kept weling up. "The wound won't close!" he exclaimed. "I knew it!"  
"Knew what?" Gilbert inquired carefully. He didn't know what to think right now.  
Hungary turned back to stare at him with twinkling eyes and a broad smile. "You're like me, Gilbert! You're an immortal!" Gilbert's blood ran cold at those words, and he stared at the boy in horror. "You're a _country!_ "

"I'm a _what?_ "

* * *

 **And that concludes the first chapter of Cross Your Heart.  
I will try to update weekly, but even if I don't, no worries. I will not abandon this story anytime soon. I will continue to write even if it takes some time.**

 **I hope you liked it so far, and please leave a little review to tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, wow! Thank you all so much for following, favouriting and reviewing!  
And a little special thanks to Crossfire, Abc and KuneggAndris for the amazing advice and ideas they've given me! I'll be sure to put some of them to good use in the future!**

 **I can't remember writing a story that got so many reviews and such on the first chapter only, in such a short time. Thank you all so much for that!  
Well, here's the second chapter then. I hope you'll enjoy it!**

* * *

27 _October 1211_

 _As you can imagine, I hardly slept last night. Sheer exhaustion drove me to close my eyes, knowing that, tonight at least, the Hungarians had guard duty, not my own Order. I couldn't really go out and do that instead. They would just start asking questions._  
 _Hungary is insane. But also, I'm afraid, right. After I cut him, he did the same to me, and I'm still looking at the cut. He's the only one to have ever given me a wound that stayed this long. It's rather scary, if I have to be honest. So if I'm really a country like him, I wonder which one I am? I hope a strong kingdom. My Order doesn't really have any land yet, so they're not my people, at least. But I do want people like them -righteous and strong, people others can look up to!Well, whatever happens, I'll have to rest today and tonight. Tomorrow we'll set out for battle against the Turkic tribe. As a reward, the Teutonic Order will get access to Burzenland -I wonder if I'm Burzenland, then? Maybe. I hope not, because Burzenland sounds really awful. I'll find out._

Gilbert sighed and put his quill down. This was frustrating. All day his mind had been reeling with the thought of being a nation, being an immortal, one day being as old as Hungary was now. Who was he, really? Who were his people, what was his land? And why, for Heaven's sake why, had his father given him to the Teutonic Order instead of raising him himself? Then, at least, he would've known more about all this. Just the evening before, Hungary had told him that he himself didn't even have a father or a mother -he was born from the Earth, as he called it. Maybe Gilbert was, too. Maybe his 'father' had merely found him somewhere and brought him to the people he knew would take care of him. Hungary had also told him it had been North Italy who had told him who he was, or at least that he was a country, and being Hungary was something he'd figured out himself. Other than Italy, he knew Lithuania and France. He knew of even more, though he'd never met them in person yet. _Well, now you know me_ , Gilbert had thought, grinning. _That's one more on your list! My name can come later, just be sure to recognise me as one of you._  
Gilbert's mind had been with all those things all day. And the worst thing was, that Hungary was nowhere to be found that day, so he couldn't ask him the many questions burning in his mind. He'd wondered for a moment whether he should tell Frederick about all this, but had soon decided against it. He didn't want his only friend to deem him insane or a demon like the others did. He felt confused, lonely and miserable all day, though he also felt really excited and couldn't stop thinking about the many possibilities he had, being immortal. He could be the best knight in the Teutonic Order! No one would ever be able to defeat him. But despite those positive thoughts, he was visibly troubled and distracted most of the day. Not even the thought of heading out to battle soon could cheer him up as it usually did. Not even now that he knew for sure that he was practically invincible.

"Gilbert," one of the elders, Joachim, eventually spoke to him. "I do hope your mind won't wander as it does today when we head out." Gilbert shook his head and promised that it wouldn't: he would focus on their task and nothing else. He was determined not to let his Order down. "You haven't slept last night, have you?"  
"No, sir."  
"It's unlike you to be nervous for a battle. If anything, you seem to look forward to them all the time," Joachim went on, only a little bit of distrust slipping into his words and voice. Gilbert just sighed, rolled his eyes and assured the man that he wasn't nervous: not for the battle, at least. "Pains again?"  
"When has pain ever kept me awake?" Gilbert mumbled with a grin, shaking his head. "No, it's... I'm worried about something. But it's pure personal matters, sir, and I would like to keep it to myself." _Like_ _ **you**_ _would ever help me, honestly. Like I_ _ **need**_ _help!_  
"Then don't bother us with your distracted mind and foul mood," Joachim told him harshly, though one corner of his lips twisted into a smirk. "Just go and rest. You're one of the best warriors here: we need you at your best. You have my permission to sleep rather than work for today, so long as you promise you'll be yourself again tomorrow." Gilbert nodded, thanked him and went into his tent. He put away his sword, lay down on his straw-and-cloth bed, and closed his eyes. But no matter how tired he was, sleep wouldn't come to him. Instead, he just rolled onto his back, staring at the cloth ceiling above him. It was still too bright outside to sleep, that must be it, he thought. Nothing else. Lying there, he closed his eyes once more, sighed, and listened to the rustling outside, the voices of knights, sounds of beetles and birds. In the far distance he heard what he thought was the howl of a wolf, probably seperated from its pack and lost. Wolves didn't usually howl like that during daytime. Next he heard someone tell the camp's guards to be alert for the animal should it stray too close to them. Then more rustling. Footsteps going past the tent, stopping, then continuing, and so on. How was he ever supposed to sleep with all that damned noise? He huffed and rolled onto his side instead, shutting his eyes tightly and clenching his jaws in annoyance. Joachim had been right, he'd had a fould mood all day.

He tried to block out the rustling and footsteps outside, but the more he tried, the louder it seemed to become. Until he realised it _was_ becoming louder. His eyes shot open when he heard a part of the tent being lifted, and a hushed voice calling out to him. "Gilbert! Gil, are you awake?" He sighed and grumbled that, yes, he was, especially now. Hungary crawled into the tent and knelt down beside him, staring down at him. Gilbert didn't even bother getting up for him now, and just lay there, glaring at him. "Sorry to bother you," Hungary apologized quickly. "But I had to hide somewhere, and I figured-"  
"Hide!" Gilbert echoed, getting angry. "I've been looking all over for you today to get answers, and you weren't there! And now you want to _hide_ here with me? Get out!" He huffed and rolled over, turning his back to the young country. It was silent for a moment, but then he heard some scuffling and felt Hungary lie down on his other side, back to back with him. "What are you doing?" he grumbled. "I said 'get out', not 'come join me'."  
"Oh, well, I'm sorry," Hungary said sarcastically, and Gilbert could imagine him rolling his eyes. "I thought you wanted answers. At least this way, I'm hidden, comfortable _and_ in a position to talk to you. And you won't even have to look at me, so your anger won't get in the way, either!"  
"Because practically cuddling up to you is so much better than looking at you," Gilbert scoffed, pushing the older boy away. But Hungary wouldn't budge, and eventually the young supposed country gave in. "Okay, talk away, if you want to," he muttered, closing his eyes.  
"I thought you wanted _answers_ , not small talk. You'll first have to ask me things, you know," Hungary laughed softly, his laugh sending shivers down Gilbert's spine.  
"First stop giggling like a girl," he told him, " _then_ we'll talk. First of all, what else can you tell me about countries?" Hungary was silent immediately, huffing angrily when Gilbert accused him of giggling like a girl, then sighed and thought about his answer for a moment.  
"Well, first of all," he told Gilbert, "the last of the Ancients passed away a few years ago. His name was Germania, and covered most of the land just north of mine. He was the father of, for example, the Holy Roman Empire. And other little countries as well, most of them under the Holy Roman Empire's control. The Germanic family is the biggest in the known world, and the second-biggest family is the Roman, with France, Spain, Italy... I apparently have some distant Roman blood in me as well, and Germanic, too. But it's all really distant -my cousins, at best." Gilbert took it all in silently, listening intently to what his fellow country had to tell him. He would study him, learn as much as he could. "We are not actually immortal, though we don't die of old age and rarely of illness. We can be killed by each other, but humans cannot hurt us. Well, obviously, since I just told you Germania passed away some time ago. Most countries are reborn then, Italy told me once, but the Ancients -Rome, Germania, Greece, Britannia, you name it- have never returned." Gilbert decided then that he would be careful around other contries, if they were the ones able to kill him. If he was granted eternal life like this, he didn't want to throw it all away with recklessness. Also that he would train even harder for combat techniques -he would never let himself be defeated like that. "And up in the North, some little countries sometimes die, as well. Because they get taken over by others, or just killed in battle. The Kingdom of Bavaria, a daughter of Germania, and Prussia have been killed a couple of years ago, for example. But they didn't cease to exist altogether, so they have been reborn, I suppose."  
"There are girl countries?" Gilbert asked then, surprised, and Hungary rolled over to face him, nodding, staring at him as though it were obvious. "But they have to fight, right?" Gilbert insisted, thoroughly confused by that. There were no female warriors of any kind, anywhere.  
"Apparently girls can fight," Hungary answered, shrugging. But Gilbert still didn't believe that. There was no way weak little girls could fight! _I wouldn't even want to fight a girl,_ he thought. _Making little girls cry isn't something a knight does._ "But I suppose that could be the reason they got killed -because they were weak. Though I heard Prussia died in battle with Lithuania, and that guy's pretty ruthless from what I heard, so it figures." The older boy then sat up and stared down at Gilbert. "So? Anything else you'd like to know? Or do you maybe have an idea who you could be?" But Gilbert shrugged and sighed, answering that he didn't have a clue yet. "We'll find out some other time, then," Hungary said, stretching his back as he got up. Gilbert blinked in surprise and sat up as well, staring up at the older country. "We?" he echoed. "You mean-"  
"Of course I'll help you!" Hungary answered with another bout of that girlish laughter. "I want to know who you are, so I can add you to the list of countries I've met! Well, I think it's safe for me to leave now -and I don't want the king to be _too_ angry with me for running away- so I'll be going. Goodnight, Gilbert. I hope you can catch up on your sleep now." Gilbert nodded and said goodnight as well, lying back down and closing his eyes. Hungary was right, sleep came easier now that he had some more information, though it still bugged him greatly that he didn't know who he was yet. But he would find out one day. _And then I can prove to Hungary that I don't need his stupid help,_ he thought. _I'll find out all on my own!_

* * *

 _12 December 1211_

 _All battles have been fought and won, and the Order of Teutonic Knights has now gotten control over Burzenland. Aside from that, there's also been some business with marriage and all that, but that's... marriage. I don't bother with such things, so I wasn't interested, so I don't know anything about it. No, the information that was important to me, is that, led by Theoderich, we will now be defending the border of Hungary against the Cumans, and will bring in colonists to Burzenland. So I suppose there will be many battles yet._  
 _But that doesn't matter -I'm invincible! I always knew that I was hard to kill, but now that I know I_ _cannot_ _be killed at all, it's... it's really amazing._ _I'm_ _amazing. I still don't know who I am, but I'm beginning to think I don't really care. I just love being a country. It's even better now that Hungary isn't near me all the time anymore. He's gone back deeper into his land with his king, while I'm in Burzenland. Now I'm the only immortal here._  
 _I know that arrogance is a sin, but certainly enjoying gifts such as these isn't? I'm only enjoying my immortal life and the power that comes with it. And to think, a country is even more powerful among his people._  
 _Okay, forget what I wrote earlier, I do want to know who my people are. But I will find out, one day, someday. And Hungary will be the first to know, since he's helped me and all. I do suppose that, despite his insanity (I still think he's crazy) he deserves to know it as much as I do._  
 _Please, Gott, can't you just tell me who I am? I've served you for so long, surely I may now know my own identity?_

"Still writing, Gilbert?" Frederick asked, looking over the boy's shoulder. Gilbert quickly shut his journal and hid it under his mantle, glaring up at his friend. The man only grinned at him. "Don't worry, I haven't read much. Though I did see it looks more like a personal journal these days than anything else. So... not sending it to the Grand Master as a report, hm?"  
"No, definitely not," the boy muttered, getting up and brushing grass from his white mantle. Most of the grass was dead already, dry and here and there hidden under a thin layer of snow. He shivered as a breeze blew by, cold and announcing more snowfall that evening. "And besides, what does it matter? It's almost full now, anyway, and I'm nearly out of ink. I'll need to get more of both before I can write again. And I only write once a few weeks these days, anyway, so there's no hurry." Frederick nodded, peering into the boy's nearly-empty inkwell. There were only a few good drops left. "Well, now that we're settling here, I'm sure you can get more soon," he told his young friend, ruffling his white hair. "But honestly, you shouldn't waste your earnings on parchment all the time. But they just about finished the chapel. Want to come with me and take a look?" Gilbert nodded. He hadn't noticed it much when he was still sitting on the ground, with his knees pulled up to his chest, but it was getting cold here as midday passed slowly, and he longed to be inside, be it in a chapel or a mere farm. If it was warmer than out here, he would be happy.

The chapel was really beginning to look good, though, Frederick had been right. It was nearly finished now, only some of the interior not quite ready yet. But the altar was done, candles already lit around it. Gilbert went and sat down close to the altar, enjoying the warmth of the candles. Winter was the season when plenty of men, even the strongest, died of cold and sickness. _But not me,_ he reminded himself with a tiny smirk. _I'm immortal. Immune to those things._ It was true, he'd never been sick yet. Frederick had been, three winters ago, and Gilbert had been worried then, but the man had pulled through and was still as strong as ever. Looking at the altar now, he silently prayed that no men would be taken this winter, as they had lost enough people during the battles against the Kipchaks. One of them had been Joachim, and it was a hard blow to everyone to lose someone as respected as him.  
"Gilbert?" came the voice of the young country's human friend after a little while. Gilbert looked up, seeing Frederick stare at him with a certain emotion in his brown eyes that the boy couldn't read. "I also wanted to tell you... once we're done settling colonists here, building a church and a hospice... well, once we're done with our business, you will be expected to return to Acre. The Grand Master ordered it so."  
Gilbert blinked and nodded solemnly. He could've seen that coming -he was still a special case within the Order, and the Grand Master treated him as such. He wanted to keep an eye on the boy whenever he could, and since he would be done here in a few months, maybe a year... But he felt sick at the thought of returning to Acre now. If it was true what he had heard, that his birthplace was somewhere up north, then he believed that the answers to who he really was lay there, not south in the Levant. And not only that, Frederick made it sound like the knight himself would have to stay. Gilbert didn't ask: he could see it in his eyes. Gilbert would be okay without him, that was for sure, being what he was. But still he'd have prefered to stay here. He wasn't looking forward to seperating from the only real friend he had within the Order. _And what about Hungary?_ a little voice in the back of his head then said. _He was supposed to help you find out who you are!_ He knew where the Hungarian boy was now, and he knew he could be there in a few days' time if he wanted to. But if he left now, he might never find him again, and their entire plan of finding Gilbert's true identity together would be shattered. _Well, I was going to do so alone, anway. Being alone isn't so bad, after all._  
He leant back against the altar, closing his eyes with a sigh. _If only I looked normal,_ he thought, _maybe I could've had a normal life as well._

"So how did things turn out between you and that Hungarian boy?" Frederick asked later that evening, as he and Gilbert sat on the doorstep of the chapel, watching the snow lazily drift onto the ground. "You seemed friendly during our time there. Though, given, he seemed friendlier to you than the other way around," he added with a chuckle and a grin at his young friend.  
Gilbert just shrugged. "Why would you ask?"  
The knight sighed and ruffled the boy's white hair. "I'm asking," he began, "because I want to know that, once we're seperated, you won't become a hermit. That you're capable of having proper contact with other human beings. That... that you won't be too lonely." Worry shone in his brown eyes as he looked down at Gilbert, and the young country looked away. He didn't want to see his friend worrying about him like that. So he faked a smile, and grinned up at Frederick, who brightened a little at seeing Gilbert smile, though he knew it was fake.  
"Don't worry about me," the boy said, grinning wide. "I'll be the most amazing knight in Acre, and the next time you come home, I promise I'll be your new Grand Master. And you'll get to be my successor. And the next time we'll see each other again after I leave, I'll reach up to your shoulders, all right?" Frederick laughed softly as he heard all this, though he said nothing. "And I'll have the most amazing people skills, too! No one will declare me a demon ever again -they might even declare me a saint! So you don't have to worry about me, all right?"  
"Oh, I'm not so worried about what you will do," Frederick then said, getting to his feet and looking down at Gilbert as he spoke. "What I'm most worried about, is how others will be around you. We cannot change what's on a person's mind, but you can always do your best to make them think the best of you." Then he smirked, and said with a soft huff, "And we'll see about you becoming Grand Master!" Gilbert got up too and followed the man inside, looking over his shoulder for a brief moment, gazing at the snow. He'd seen one winter arrive here. His next would probably be in the Levant again.

Winter passed more slowly than it did back home in the South. Two of the knights got sick, but they both pulled through. A farmer in that area died, however, leaving his wife and young toddler behind, who were then taken in by the knights for protection and care. Gilbert, being the youngest of the men by appearance at least, was sometimes tasked with entertaining that young child, and he did so as he did any task: dilligently and with utter devotion. It was refreshing to have someone around that wasn't scared of him for his eyes, someone too young to even realize that red eyes were unusual. The mother, however, was like anyone else was, and first needed some convincing from Theoderich before even letting Gilbert anywhere near her or her daughter. And then he realized that it didn't matter if he stayed here or returned to Acre, if he was a knight or a farmer or a king. _People are afraid of me wherever I go, anyway._ But not the little girl, and not Hungary. Would that be his life, then? Surrounded by people who _couldn't_ be afraid of him, by nations, young children and perhaps some blind people? _Why can't I just stay with my brother?_ Knowing that they would be seperated soon, he'd come to see Frederick even more as a brother than before, enjoying every day they had left in each other's company.  
Then spring came, and he watched flowers bloom in the meadows, rabbits hop through them (which he hunted for dinner nearly every day), birds in the sky and the fields grow full of wheat and vegetables. He set aside his worries and his reluctance to ever leave again, and enjoyed himself there while he still could, helping people, building things, fighting the occassional battle and always returning unscathed.  
Then summer, which didn't go very differently from the spring. He saw Hungary again once, on a week's visit from the boy and some soldiers. They talked, but didn't have the time to keep their promise to each other and find out who Gilbert was. But aside from all that, they did get competitive during that week: who was the best hunter, who could get his work done faster, who did the people like more? The last one was won by Hungary, of course, but Gilbert was a hard worker. The hunting was a draw so far. They became rivals more than anything else, and they enjoyed that. And then they parted ways once again.  
And as he had predicted, halfway through fall, he departed with some other knights, to arrive in Acre by the start of winter.

* * *

 **Now this may be the first confusing thing. Yup: Prussia is a reincarnation. The original Prussia died and was reborn into him, all for a single (rather complicated *sigh*) purpose which you'll find out later. First he needs to find out himself that he's Prussia...**

 **Well, that's it for the second chapter. I hope you liked it!**


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, a big thank you to Crossfire, Abc, KunnegAndris (sorry for misspelling that in the last chapter) and Awesomely Random for reviewing!**

 **As for what you wrote about Hungary's heritage, Crossfire... heh heh... let's forget I ever wrote that, m'kay? (*didn't do much research on Hungary at all*)**

 **Also, since several people have mentioned wanting to see Prussia meet the Knights Templar, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but... that's not going to happen. That is because Prussia is not the personification of the Teutonic Order, as said Order had no real land of their own, a 'country' at this point in time. I know Himaruya did it, but I will not be personifying things that have no landmass. (Also, how would the transition work for Prussia, first being the personification of the Teutonics, then continuing on as Prussia later even when the Knights had nothing to do with Prussia anymore? Well, honestly, Prussia is a very complicated character to work with on this matter, so...)**

 **Let's just summarise it as: Himaruya, for all his awesomeness, made Prussia a very complicated character, having him start out as an Order of knights, then turning into a country and staying that country after the knights disappeared. Nations have changed names yet kept the same personification within Hetalia, but Prussia changed his entire _existence_ yet remained the same person. And I have yet to figure out how that works.**

 **So no Knights Templar. But HRE will be there soon, and Austria won't have to wait long anymore either! And Hungary wil be back before long, and I'll introduce some German states soon as well... so he'll get plenty of interaction with others!**

 **Okay, sorry for blabbing on like that. Here's chapter 3!**

* * *

 _12 May 1230_

 _We've been summoned to the northern region of Prussia to defend to borders of the Holy Roman Empire against those pagans, and to baptise them. We got Culmerland as our base of operations for it. And Emperor Frederick II also gave us the rights to take over all of Prussia -including Culmerland- while we're at it. It will serve to strenghten the borders of the Holy Roman Empire. I haven't had the time to write for all the weeks we've travelled now, so this is my first journal entry concerning this, but trust me when I say I've been excited for weeks now. This will be my first time taking over another country -a chance to feel what it's like to be a real country, conquering others! But I'm not looking forward to_ _killing_ _another country, especially not since this Prussia will already be a reincarnation of her former self, from what Hungary told me all those years ago. So if we can handle this without killing her, that would be best._  
 _But the Emperor couldn't have done me a greater favour._  
 _And concerning the Emperor... I will not utter his name again. Losing Frederick,_ _my_ _Frederick, not this royalty, is a wound still too fresh..._  
 _Frederick, we will win. We will win, conquer this pagan land in the name of the Lord and the Teutonic Order. And I hope you will be watching me during our victory._  
 _I miss you, my brother._

Gilbert read his last journal entry of before the battles started, having a hard time focusing on the letters. They were blurred before his eyes and he felt weak with bloodloss. He didn't understand what had happened -he'd been fighting for two weeks without too much trouble, though he was in more pain than ever before as he fought. His wounds had healed as quickly as they always had. No, that wasn't right: they healed a little slower, but not so slow that they should form a problem to him. But now, this wound just wouldn't fade. He'd kept the cut hidden from his knights so far, knowing that there were many men that were in more dire need of medical attention than him. _And they aren't immortal_ , he reasoned with himself. _I am. I can handle this!_  
The weirdest thing about his bleeding wound had to be not the fact that it didn't heal, for that would mean he'd fought the reincarnation of Prussia and thus a country, but that he didn't remember how he'd gotten it. His clothing wasn't even torn anywhere near it.  
"Gilbert?" he vaguely heard a voice call out to him. "Gilbert?" it repeated, sounding more distressed now. He looked up drowsily, blinking slowly at the knight towering over him. "Are you all right, boy?" the man asked him, sounding worried, and his green eyes sparked with that same emotion. "Did you know I called you several times?"  
"Twice...?" the young country mumbled, and the man sighed, shaking his head.  
"No, about thrice as much as that," he said softly, inspecting the boy. "You're pale, Gilbert -more so than usual, I mean. Are you feeling well? I've never seen you like this." Gilbert nodded, regretting that motion soon enough as a wave of dizziness hit him. The human didn't buy it, pulling him to his feet. "Dammit," he muttered. "Off to the infirmary with you, quickly. Your abdomen is bleeding." _Damn._ He'd seen the wound. Gilbert looked down at his belly, trying to focus his gaze again, though he immediately saw a dark red stain spreading through his white clothing. He sighed and looked up again, but then the world blurred even more suddenly, and everything went dark. A heartbeat later, he found himself on hands and knees on the grass, and judging by what the human beside him said, he'd only blacked out for a few seconds. "This won't do..." the knight muttered, sighing. Too dizzy to get up, Gilbert let himself roll onto his side on the grass, curling up. The fall seemed to have torn his wound open further, and he gritted his teeth in pain. From the corner of his eye, he saw the knight bend down towards him and pick him up. He only stayed awake through a few seconds of being carried, but not aware enough of it to even protest against it. Then he blacked out again.

The world was spinning before his eyes, and he closed them with a sigh. It was cold out, and he shivered. Then a warm cloth blanket was pulled over him, and he relaxed in pure bliss at the warmth that spread over his body. "Is he getting any better?" he heard a voice ask, and then came a sigh. "Honestly," another voice said, "he's never been sick before, and then the first time just _has_ to be this bad..."  
"I don't understand that boy..."  
Gilbert took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He knew these people were talking about him, and he wanted to prove to them that he was still strong. He would always be strong. He saw two blurred shapes in black and white, and he croaked a soft hum to get their attention, annoyed that his throat was too dry to speak properly. They both turned to face him, and the one closest to him placed his cold palm to the boy's forehead, brushing away a few strands of sticky white hair. "Gilbert," he asked softly, "how are you feeling?" The young country tried to answer that he was fine, but he couldn't get his voice any louder than a whisper, which immediately proved him wrong. He then tried to stare up at him with his usual proud gaze, but he knew only discomfort and pain would be reflected in his eyes. The knight that stood beside him sighed. "That wound on your abdomen got infected," he explained. "It has healed now, but your fever still hasn't dropped. It shouldn't be long now, though."  
Gilber blinked groggily. "Where are the others now...?" he croaked, his throat sore. He decided it was useless to keep pretending.  
"They're fighting," the second man answered, coming closer now as well. "But that's not for you to worry about now. Rest first, boy. Soon you'll be able to fight alongside our brothers once more." The young country nodded, turning onto his side and curling up. The wound had healed, he'd been told, but his entire belly was still sore, not just the abdomen. He felt like he was being pummeled by a hundred fists, and he grunted in pain. "Rest, boy," he was told again. "You'll feel better soon."

But he didn't. He was in pain as long as the battle lasted, though near the end of it he felt strong enough again to get up and walk a little distance. He sat down against the trunk of a large oak not too far from the infirmary tent, should anything go wrong again, and re-read some of his older journal entries, going as far back as when he'd first started, for he'd written in the same book for over a decade by now. What was happening now was something vital, he had realised that afternoon, and he knew he'd written some things down about it. Then he found it: a list Hungary had once given him of the signs he should look for if he were looking for his people. _If you bleed without any apparent reason, you've lost people,_ the older kingdom had told him. _If you're in pain, your people are suffering. If you get sick, your people aren't doing well economy-wise: a famine perhaps._ Gilbert's heart began beating faster as he read the list over and over again. Why hadn't he realised this before? He'd been with his people all along! The Teutonic Knights were fighting -he was in pain. They'd lost knights -he'd had an open wound for some time. It was as clear as crystal now. _Thank you, God,_ he said in silence, closing his eyes happily. _Thank you for bringing me to my people so long ago._

* * *

As dusk fell, the knights returned, some wounded, some missing. But overall they looked proud and strong, a huge grin on the face of nearly each of the men. "Another battle fought and won!" one exclaimed as they returned to their base camp. "Those Prussians are brutal people, but no match." Gilbert blinked in the faint light, counting the men. Only two were gone. _Then why do I feel so bad?_ It was definitely a victory, but it felt like a grave defeat to him. He felt terribly sad all of a sudden, and he quietly slipped away from the men, not wanting them to see how miserable he felt. His heart was racing and his mind reeling as he realised that he'd been wrong about his people. Having grown up with these humans, of course he'd feel a connection to them. But they weren't his. The Teutonic Knights weren't a people in that sense of the word. _T-there have to be other people that fought and lost a battle today,_ he told himself as he felt bile rising in his throat, and he stumbled to the bushes close to the camp. _There have to be._ But he knew his mind was only trying to deny what his heart already knew, and the attempts were getting more feeble with the second. He collapsed onto his knees as soon as he was out of sight for the others, his legs shaky as he finally realised what all this meant.  
 _I... I'm Prussia._

But then, on whose side should he fight? Hungary had told him a country should always side with his people, but the Prussians... _they're pagans!_ They were different from everything he had been taught was right from the day of his birth. Surely a country couldn't be so different from his people? And not only that, Prussia was a land occupied by others. It was by far not as great as he'd hoped and thought. _I'm not Prussia, I'm not Prussia, I'm_ _ **not Prussia!**_ But as much as he tried to tell himself this, his heart would only answer calmly: _liar._ And then he felt sick again. Mere days ago, he had killed his own people. But if he were now to fight for the Prussians... he couldn't do it. How could he fight the men he'd grown up with?  
"Gilbert?" The boy jumped in fear at the sudden call, and found himself staring straight into the eyes of the same man that had brought him to the infirmary earlier that week. The knight was staring at him in worry, and the country suddenly realised how weak he looked right then. Paler than ever before, trembling all over, and he was pretty sure he felt slowly-drying tears on his cheeks. He was breathing quickly, and inchoherent words streaming over his lips. It was about the last state he'd want anyone to see him in. "Gilbert, what's the matter?"  
"I-Order-you-people-Prussia-I-"  
"Woah, calm down there, boy," the man tried to soothe him, getting down on one knee to be on eye-level with the kid, and he slowly reached out his hand to him. And suddenly the young country could only feel fear while looking at the knight. These were the people trying to conquer his land, trying to kill his people. Trying to kill _him_. He spun around, yelling something, though he had no idea what, and tried to run. He could fight. He could fight very well, but not against this many people. He was immortal against them, but not quite as invincible as he'd always told himself. "Hey! Gilbert, get back here!" the knight exclaimed immediately, running after him for a few steps, catching up to him quickly on his taller legs. He got hold of the boy quickly and roughly pulled him closer again. But the country struggled wildly, kicking and screaming, demanding that the man let him go. There was a loud rustling in the bushes behind the knight, and two others emerged quickly, asking what was going on and then staring at their youngest member in shock.  
"What's the matter with him?" one asked, and the knight still trying to hold on to the raging child snapped at him that the boy wasn't well, and they should get him to a medic again.  
"So help me!" The two other knights then grabbed the young country as well, and the child soon stopped struggling now that he was practically immobilized. Instead he just glared at all of them. _Just wait 'til I've bonded with my people,_ he wanted to tell them. _Wait and see, I'll be so strong, you won't even get a chance to fight back, any of you!_  
"It's a pity Frederick died," one of the three muttered. "He was the only one to understand the little demon."  
"You don't honestly think he's-?"  
"I didn't use to, no," was the solemn answer, accompanied by a sigh. "But with how he's been acting just now, I might just start to believe those stories."  
The young country was still trembling with both anger and shock as the men dragged him back into the camp, where all eyes were turned on the four of them. The curious gazes followed them all the way to the infirmary tent, where the boy was quickly put in a bed and checked. His skin was wet with sweat, his breathing laboured, his eyes darting from one face to the other. "Panic attack," the medic concluded after a quick examination. "Though I honestly have no idea what brought it about... Just let him rest here, he should be fine in the morning." The three men left again soon after, wanting to be away from the boy as quickly as possible, while the medic tried to calm him with gentle words. "It's all right, Gilbert," he said, softly stroking the boy's silvery white hair. "You know there's nothing to be afraid of here. It's all right."  
 _It's not,_ the child wanted to tell him. _It's not all right. Nothing is all right._ But his tired mind soon calmed him more than the human did, and he closed his red eyes slowly. Then he just listened to the people outside, the rustling of the wind in the trees, the slowly dying song of birds in these last minutes of sunlight, the whispers of the medic, trying to get him to sleep. 'Gilbert', the man kept calling him. He wanted to protest, tell him that he was wrong. He wasn't Gilbert. If he ever even had been, he wasn't anymore now.  
 _I'm Prussia!_

* * *

The next morning, Prussia woke with renewed strength and devotion. He had found his people, he was sure of it, and he would do anything to prevent them from being slaughtered. Wasn't that his duty? But when he got up and the knight on guard duty for the sick and injured among them asked him if he felt any better, his heart sank. Was he supposed to choose between his people and _his_ people? Sure, he could well be connected to the Prussians by blood, or fate, or whatever it was that connected countries to their people, but his heart was what connected him to the Teutonic Knights. _And besides,_ he grumbled internally with a huff. _I still don't want to be a measly little_ _ **region**_ _._ Prussia wasn't a kingdom, not even close to one. It wasn't a principality. It wasn't a _country_. It was a little region filled with pagan people that spoke a weird language called Prussian, which didn't resemble German nor any Baltic language that much, while Germans and Baltics were the peoples surrounding them. Well, and they were Baltic people, those Prussians. _And I'm Teutonic,_ he declared to himself. _I'm German!_ Once he could come to terms with being Prussia, he would have a lot of work left to do before these were a people and a land worthy of being represented by _anyone_.  
But he wasn't quite sure what to do now. He didn't want these people, but he didn't want to fight them either. Mostly because he didn't want to hurt himself like that, but also because he did have morality somewhere hidden deep inside. A country - _or region_ \- didn't fight his people, simple as that. He looked around at the Teutonic Knights, thinking back to the night before. He didn't remember most of it, but he recalled feeling very hostile towards them for a moment. Like he wanted to kill them all, wipe each and every one of them from _his_ _land._ He felt uneasy, thinking back to that. Was that what being a country was like? _Region._  
 _Oh, shut it_.  
But was that really what it was like? Sometimes feeling, well, what your people were probably feeling? _Well, that's horrible,_ he sighed. _My own feelings are complicated enough sometimes, thank you very much._ But then he thought a bit more. He wasn't just feeling what the Prussians felt since he came here -he'd done so all his life, most likely. Now how was he supposed to know which thoughts were his own, and which were brought about by his people? He gritted his teeth angrily, drew his small sword and slashed at a tree in frustration. "Why must everything be so complicated?!"  
"Gilbert!" he was called suddenly, and the young country looked over his shoulder. Goswin, one of the elder knights, was approaching him with a frown, and Prussia sighed. What now? "Come with me to my tent. I'd like to have a word with you." The man then turned around again, not looking back to see if the boy was following him, just assuming he was. And if he wouldn't, the young knight would be in trouble for it, he also knew, so Prussia had no choice but to do as he said, though he glared at the man's back as he followed him.

Once inside the tent, he tried his best not to look too angry or frustrated, however, being greeted by the sight of four other knights already waiting there for them. "Sit down, boy," Goswin ordered him, and Prussia did as he was told. He looked each of the humans in the eyes with a look of defiance, which seemed to anger all five of them, but they said nothing about that. "Gilbert, please explain to us what happened last night," Goswin then said calmly.  
"Please clarify."  
Now Goswin glared at him. "You know very well what I'm talking about. Now speak!"  
Prussia then got up and returned the glare tenfold. "What? So it's not allowed to get sick for once? Might I remind you, it was the first time in all my life - _in 38 years_. I'm only human, after all."  
"This had nothing to do with being sick, and you know that as well as we do."  
Another man, Arnulf, then pulled out a small book from under his mantle, and Prussia stiffened. His journal. He'd dropped it days ago, when he'd started bleeding all of a sudden and was taken to the infirmary. "Please explain to us what you have written in this journal, Gilbert," Arnulf demanded calmly but commanding. "For you seem to think that you're not a human -which I doubt anyway, given you're a child with the age of a man."  
"What is this nonsense about living countries?" Volkmar then asked in addition. "Countries in the bodies of humans?"  
Prussia glared at each of them again, gritting his teeth. His clenched his hands into fists and yelled at them, "Well, every single word is true! And you know what, I now know who I am!" The humans looked unimpressed by his anger, only staring down at him in annoyance. "I'm _Prussia!_ I'm Prussia, and you're trying to slaughter my people! Anyone would get angry."  
Goswin just smirked, looking at him like he would a child who'd just told him they believed in a fairytale. "Sure you are, boy," he said condescendingly, angering the young country even more. "Then if you're Prussia, surely you can convince your people to stop putting up such a resistance? If they don't struggle, we won't have to slaughter them. But this land _will_ be conquered in the name of the Teutonic Order, the Holy Roman Empire and the church. Talk to them, it's the only chance you have of saving them."  
Prussia almost flinched, and he looked away for a brief moment. "I would," he muttered. "But I... I don't speak Prussian."  
The humans then laughed. "Well, isn't that marvelous!" Arnulf exclaimed. "A country with no way of communicating with his own people! Maybe you aren't Prussia, then?"  
Wasn't he? Prussia wasn't sure for a moment, but only just a moment. "If I hadn't been raised by you lot," he protested, "I _would_ have spoken Prussian!"  
"If we hadn't taken you in," Volkmar explained to him, "you would have been left somewhere to die. No one would want to raise a child like you, Gilbert, you should know that. Not even your father did, that's why he gave you to us. Be grateful we let you live."  
His words struck deep, but Prussia wouldn't show them how hurt he was at this. He knew very well that no one wanted him and why, but that had nothing to do with all this. "No, _you_ be grateful!" he yelled back. "Be grateful that I served the Order for so long! I did everything I was told to do for 30 years! Now I'm asking only one thing of you: _stop killing them._ Baptise them for all I care, but don't kill my people!"  
Volkmar then sighed and shook his head. "These pagans don't _want_ to be baptised, Gilbert. We would, you know we would, but they simply cannot be-"  
" _I_ am Prussian!" Prussia then protested. "But I'm christian, too! Don't you try and tell me it's impossible to baptise them, because that's _crap!_ "  
"Enough!" Goswin exclaimed, managing to silence the boy for once. "Gilbert, it's your luck that it's not within our power to expell you from the Teutonic Order, but you _will_ be expected to leave after this. What you do and where you will go is your business, so long as you do not interfere with ours anymore."  
Prussia couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was older than four of the five humans in front of him, had been a knight for much longer than any of them, he was older even than the Emperor in whose name they were crusading here in the North, served longer than that man had reigned... and now he was kicked out just like that? They couldn't do that. They just couldn't. He stared at the men, the knights, his family, silently. Some returned the stare, others looked away.  
"You will be given until sunset to gather your things and say your goodbyes. If you decide to return to Acre, you shall be welcomed there. If you do not... it will be up to the Grand Master to decide what we'll do with you. Now go."

Prussia stumbled away, feeling numb, unable to think very well. He had no possessions to gather except his journal, quill and sword, no one to say goodbye to. At sunset he was given a horse and the necessary provisions to travel for a week, and then he was made to leave. Until sunrise the next day, he wandered aimlessly, unable to doze off on his horse like he usually could. At sunrise he stopped, rested his horse and ate a little himself. Then he sat there, staring up at the sky. He'd found his people, he was still sure of that. But he'd lost his family.  
Exhausted, he pulled out his journal and read a bit. 1211, what a year that had been. Life had been normal, easy, until that stupid Hungary turned his world upside-down, ended that easy life in mere heartbeats. _...it's really amazing._ _I'm_ _amazing!_ Had he been too arrogant, thinking he could solve everything on his own, thinking he could do anything he wanted? _"Don't worry about me. I'll be the most amazing knight in Acre!"_ Thinking he could take on the world like that. And he could, if the world had been made up of physical battles. He was strong like that physically. But he didn't stand a chance against others in any other way.  
 _"Oh, I'm not so worried about what you will do. What I'm worried about, is how others will be around you."_ Frederick had understood him. He'd never known about Prussia being what he was, but he'd understood nonetheless.  
 _But you were wrong,_ Prussia told his old, deceased friend. _You should have worried about what I would do, because I just went and ruined it all._

He felt choked up, and after some time he felt tears running down his cheeks. But he didn't allow himself to cry for long. He'd ruined it, but not beyond repair. He could make it right yet, and he would. Forgetting his exhaustion and ignoring his tired limbs, he put his things away again and jumped onto his horse. There was only one thing he knew could save both his people and his status within the Teutonic Order. He now had a goal and a destination:

Sicily, where the Holy Roman Emperor was.

* * *

 **So the next chapter will be in Sicily. And you can guess who he'll meet there, hm?**

 **Anyway, I imagine Prussia was not happy to find out who he was at first: he wanted to be an 'awesomely strong!' kingdom, and he gets a _region_. He's raised as christian as can be, he gets _pagans_. He feels German more than anything, seeing as he was raised by a German group of people, he gets _Baltics._ I can only imagine him being pissed about it at first, because to him "they're not awesome enough for the awesome me!"**

 **But as I said, he's complicated, and you'll find out more in the next chapter. I'm about 1/3 finished with that.**

 **I hope you liked it, and thanks a lot for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 is here!**

 **KunnegAndris and Crossfire, thank you both for the reviews. Fangirl99 eveyami, callempie, Silver-'-Doe290s and Otaku Pineapple, thank you for the follows and the favourite!**

 **As I promised, Prussia will finally meet other countries now, and I hope you'll enjoy that!**

 **I don't own Hetalia or the characters.**

* * *

The journey to Sicily was a long one. Soon enough he was out of food, and he had a hard time getting new food. He wanted to waste as little time hunting as he possibly could, and though he'd been to plenty of farms on the way, only a few of those people had actually given him some food. And on those occassions, he'd worn the hood of his white cloak over his head and looked down as much as he could. Anything to prevent the people from seeing his eyes and hair, for at first, when he hadn't taken these measures yet, he'd been chased away the moment they spotted him. Things had been much easier when he'd been in the company of the Teutonic Knights, for sure. He'd thought about turning around and going to Acre more than once, but he'd decided against it all the time. There was nothing for him there, nothing more than what he would find anywhere else in the world. Except Sicily: if he could find the Emperor and convince him to stop this crusade, his people would be saved. And once the man saw his good intentions, maybe he could be convinced to force the Teutonic Order to keep Prussia as a member as well. He refused to think about his chances of success, for he didn't want to lose hope before he even got there.  
Once in Italy, he travelled further south, avoiding cities such as Venice and Rome, not wanting to be near too many people. The less people he encountered, the greater his chances of making it through this journey unscathed. When he finally got to a harbour from where ships left for Sicily, he quietly snuck onto one and hid himself there the entire time.  
All this time, what bothered him most was not the hunger, the exhaustion, the uncertainty of what the outcome of this journey would be, not even the hostility of the people. It was the loneliness. He had no people to talk to, and though he'd always been convinced that he could make it on his own just fine, he now realised that he'd never been truly alone before as he was now. He had only a tiny space left to write in his book, and he'd save it for the end of his journey, and by now he didn't have a horse anymore either. A few days before he managed to get onto a ship, he'd had to sell the animal in exchange for food, a place to sleep and even a new tunic. But he'd refused to wear his new clothes yet, though his old one was torn and dirty: it was the one thing he had left of the Teutonic Order, along with his sword. And, when he was dressed as a knight, people were less likely to hate him and try to kill him, even if just a little.

But he couldn't have anticipated what happened when he got off the ship in Sicily. Yet now, a few hours later, he only wondered how he couldn't have: anyone with common sense could've seen this coming.  
He'd been taken by some people upon sight -knights, he supposed, people working for the Emperor-and then taken to where he was now. All he knew was that it was somewhere underground, because there was no light except from torches. It seemed to big to be a cellar, but a bit small for a dungeon.  
They'd tied him up, and not too long after a priest came in and started performing an exorcism. Now he wouldn't have minded it so much if it consisted only of some holy water and holy words, but he was also physically tortured as they tried to exorcise him. He didn't understand much of what they said, but apparently they thought evil had taken a very deep root in him going by his appearance, or maybe that he was the incarnation of evil, and they weren't just trying to exorcise him but actually kill him and expell him from this planet. He didn't know, and he didn't care. All he cared about was that it hurt, and that he wanted them to stop more than anything else. He yelled at them, telling them that he wasn't evil, that he'd come here to save his people, but they didn't understand. He knew bits and pieces of Italian, but their Sicilian was just too different from that. His yelling probably only served to confirm their suspicions about him to them, but he couldn't care less. It was all he could do.

But eventually he heard another voice, a younger one, though definitely male. He couldn't turn around to see who spoke, and he didn't understand the words. But the humans stopped what they were doing immediately, bowed politely and stepped back, allowing this new person to come closer. The moment he saw him, he knew he could only be one of two things: a prince or a country. A young boy, 12 years old perhaps, older than himself and Hungary at least, with great authority over these people. His pale skin and golden blonde hair told Prussia that he was German, and he guessed he was facing the Holy Roman Empire right now. That turned out to be correct. "My apologies," the young empire spoke in clear, fluent German. "I've told the people here many times that, should ever a boy of the Pale Folk come here, they should direct him to me before doing anything else." He shook his head and sighed. "But they never listen. Has this been going on for long?" he added before gesturing to the humans, ordering them to release their prisoner. Prussia shook his head, answering sarcastically that it had only been a few hours. The Holy Roman Empire grimaced. "Sorry for that. I had hoped our first meeting would be different. But alas, it's happened, and there's nothing we can do about that now. It's good to finally see you, Prussia."  
At this, Prussia stared at him, and confused, he choked out random sounds. He didn't think the majority of it were actually words, but some must have been, for the Holy Roman Empire smiled and answered. "Of course I know you. I was there when you were given to the Teutonic Knights, after all." Prussia's mind went blank. The greatest empire of Europe had been present when he, a newborn country at the time, had been given to the Teutonic Order? Why had no one ever bothered to tell him _that?_ If the Holy Roman Empire had been there, surely the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order back then must've known the blonde boy was a nation? And if that was the case, then he must have also known who Prussia was. Right? He didn't follow what was going on anymore, both because of this information and the pain that was still throbbing in his chest and limbs, and by the time he could think even relatively straight again, he was being pulled away by the mighty empire. "There's much we have to talk about, Prussia," Holy Roman told him. "A lot of information you should get that's already long overdue."  
"I-I don't get it," Prussia stammered, dizzy and confused. He didn't even remember most of what had happened earlier now that everything came so fast. "I don't get any of this."  
"Doesn't surprise me," the empire answered flatly. "It's a lot to take in, after all, and I can only imagine what you went through before I showed up." He then looked over his shoulder and eyed the battered young country in curiosity and worry. "Did they only use that whip on you, or other things as well?"  
Prussia was silent for a moment, having trouble with letting that question sink in in the first place, but then he answered softly, "A-a whip... and my wrist..." He then held up his left arm. His wrist was shattered, but right now, he hardly felt any of it.  
The Holy Roman Empire grimaced again, though he said reassuringly that it should heal in less than two days. Then he led him into a large room, and Prussia was shocked to see the interior. He'd never seen furniture quite like what was in here. It looked like it belonged to a monarch, which, thinking about it, it probably did.

The Holy Roman Empire told Prussia to sit down then, and was quiet for a little while after that, allowing the younger country to think about everything that had happened to him in the past few hours. He'd been on a ship only this morning. He snuck out onto the streets of Sicily. He'd been caught, exorcised and tortured. And now he sat beside the Holy Roman Empire, of all nations. The empire carefully inspected Prussia's wrist, but said that he couldn't really do anything to help with it now, adding that they could have it looked at later if he wanted to. But Prussia shook his head absent-mindedly, stating that he was used to pain, he could handle this without a problem.  
"Well then," the Holy Roman Empire then began softly. "Do you want to talk about everything now, or would you rather save it for tomorrow? You've been through a lot this morning, and I can imagine you're tired, so-"  
Prussia shook his head, instantly snapped out of his confused and shocked state. "No!" he exclaimed, turning to look at the empire beside him with an intent, red gaze. Holy Roman flinched at his fierceness, but said nothing. "You're here now, I'm here now, and I damn well deserve some information for once! Speak, for God's sake!"  
"All right," Holy Roman answered calmly with a dip of his head. "You're right, Prussia, you deserve information by now. Where do you want me to start?"  
"How about the beginning?" the Prussian muttered through clenched jaws. "That sounds like a good start. Tell me why you were present when I was given to the Teutonic Order, tell me who gave me away like that, and tell me _why_."  
The Holy Roman Empire stared at him for a moment, then started laughing softly. "That's quite a lot for a 'beginning', don't you think? But very well. I was there, Prussia, because I was tasked with keeping track of your progress, and deciding when it would be a good time to tell you who and what you were. You found out before that time, though, and I'm sorry for that. It must've been confusing." Prussia huffed and muttered something in response, but the empire just went on without taking notice of that. "The one who gave you away was our father Germania. He-"  
" _Our_ father?" Prussia choked out then, his heart skipping a beat as he said that. "That's impossible -I'm not even Germanic! My people are _Baltic,_ and I'm a _Baltic_ cou- region."  
But the Holy Roman Empire was already shaking his head. "Your people are Baltic as of yet, yes, but you are most definitely Germanic, or at least partly so."  
"How do you know?"  
"Because you look like him," the empire answered, short and simple, but his words were so meaningful to Prussia. "You look like Germania, though the overall shape of your face resembles the previous personification of Prussia more. You look a bit like her, too, that's why I think you're of mixed blood." _I_ am _Germanic!_ Prussia thought happilly at this, his heart fluttering in his chest, though he hid his joy. Said joy faded when Holy Roman added more softly, "But neither Germania nor the original Prussia were of the Pale Folk, so that's something completely of your own."  
Prussia narrowed his eyes. He knew what the older boy was trying, and he didn't like it. Pretending he didn't know what it meant, he asked calmly, "What's that about the 'Pale Folk'?"  
The Holy Roman Empire looked him in the eyes for a moment, a little uncomfortable. "Well, er... That's something I came up with when I first saw you, when you were a few weeks old. I thought you might appreciate it if we gave 'it' a name."  
"And what does 'it' mean?" the Prussian demanded in a mutter, not trying to hide his anger anymore. This empire claimed to be his older brother, yet not even he could be normal about how the young country looked? If anything could piss him off, it was that.  
The older boy noticed his anger, of course, and thus answered in a guilty stammer, "Y-your, er... your _affliction_."  
"You mean my _appearance,_ " Prussia corrected him fiercely. "It's not a curse, you know! And you won't be cursed if you just say it out loud, either. Just say it, seriously: my hair is white, my skin is white, my eyes are red. It's unique, not _weird!_ You thought I would appreciate it? Well, I don't. It's offensive, and I hate it!" He huffed, and would've crossed his arms over his chest, were it not for his broken and throbbing wrist. "I'm worth so much more than stupid little nicknames like that, and don't you forget it!"  
The Holy Roman Empire flinched at his rage, and stammered an apology, looking away in silence.

That silence lasted a few minutes, during which Prussia calmed himself again and pondered over the things he'd heard already. How could he know for sure that was he was hearing now was the truth? The Holy Roman Empire looked somewhat familiar to him, so he didn't doubt that the empire had met him before, when he was very young for sure, as he himself didn't remember any of it. But he wouldn't assume the boy was telling him the truth about Germania being his father, _their_ father, and thus them being brothers. How could he be Germanic if his people weren't, after all? He'd figure it out someday, but for now, he wouldn't trust everything the empire told him blindly. After a little while, he remembered that one question hadn't been answered yet, so he asked again, "And why did Germania give me to the Order?"  
"Because he knew he would die soon," the Holy Roman Empire answered softly, looking at Prussia again. "He wanted you to be raised as a German, believing that your people would one day be, too. I believe so, too, seeing as you're definitely related to us. If you ask me, the Teutonic Knights _will_ succeed in conquering Prussia, though that's just an assumption based on your birth and heritage. It may be true, it may not.  
"But the reason he gave you away was that _someone_ had to raise you. Some of the older ones in our family, well... they wouldn't really be fit to raise a child, really. Germania would've prefered handing you to me, but as you can see," he added, gesturing to his pre-teen body, "I'm not exactly suited for it, myself. Especially considering I aged quite a bit since your birth -I was even younger back then. So he had to find a place where you would be raised in a Germanic way, christian at that, and would be well educated. The Teutonic Order turned out to be the best choice." He fell silent then, inspecting Prussia silently for a moment, then sighing and turning his gaze to the ceiling, his gaze distant as though focused on something much higher than those stones. "I believe it was God's choice, however. Look at where fate has brought you now: the Teutonic Order that raised you has brought you to your land, right at the start of what will probably be the transition of the Prussians from being Baltic to being Germanic. Don't you think that means something?"  
Prussia sighed and shrugged. "Sure it does," he muttered, then falling silent again. He stared at the Holy Roman Empire in silence, and the empire stared back at him, their gazes locking. Holy Roman visibly tried hard to look cheerful and sympathetic, and while Prussia could see that it was not all fake, he also saw that not all of it was real. _Don't bother pretending,_ he wanted to tell the older boy. _I'm used to people not liking me._ But he also felt a certain sense of security sitting beside the empire, and he realised that Holy Roman _was_ familiar to him in the exact way family should be: he knew this nation would never shun him for his appearance or his actions, would stand beside him in battle if necessary. Maybe they were brothers, maybe they weren't. But they were definitely family in some way, Prussia knew it, and that was what mattered.

* * *

Three days later, the Holy Roman Empire had arranged a meeting with the emperor for Prussia. Over the days prior, the Prussian had a chance to rest, get himself cleaned up for the first time in months, have a few proper meals again for the first time in a while as well. And combining that improvement with the new clothes Holy Roman had given him, by the time he met the Holy Roman Emperor, he finally looked presentable again.  
As he approached the emperor, he kept his gaze focused on the floor, and a few feet in front of the throne, he knelt down, and stayed like that until the man told him to rise again. But even then, he didn't dare look up. "Well, Prussia?" the emperor said. "Are you going to listen to an emperor or not? Look at me, boy."  
"My apologies, Your Highness," Prussia answered softly. "But I'm afraid my eyes might offend you."  
"Offend me?" the human echoed, sounding almost amused. "The only way to offend me is to ignore my orders. I am aware of your unique eyecolour, Prussia. I've heard tales about you from your brother since the day of birth." The boy looked up then, and he saw the emperor stare at him for a moment, his eyes then beginning to shine. "Very unique indeed... Well now, you're here for business, I hear? What is it you would want to discuss?"  
Prussia wasn't sure what to say for a moment. He was unique? This human was unique, he thought. Someone who spoke as if he'd wanted to see Prussia all his life? That was just weird. _He didn't want to see me,_ he told himself softly. _He wanted to see someone_ _ **like**_ _me._ Still, this was his chance to do what he'd come for, he'd better start speaking. "Your Highness, the Teutonic Order has been sent to conquer my land under your orders. I've seen with my own eyes how violent that conquest is, even if it has only just begun. They're driving the Prussians from their land and slaughter them like beasts. Your Highness, I've come to ask you to put a stop to this."  
"Why?" the emperor then demanded, staring down at the young country emotionlessly now. "Why would you want to stop it? Would it kill you if your land is conquered by the Teutonic Order?"  
"N-not that I know of," Prussia stammered in response, taken aback by this. By how interested the human was in him, he'd thought he'd be a little more willing to listen to him, as well. "No, Your Highness. I don't think it could kill me."  
"Then why would you want to stop the best thing that has happened to your little region in its entire history?" the human asked him. "If the Knights succeed, your land will be inhabited by German settlers, by christians, by _decent_ people. It would be a huge improvement to the barbaric land it is now." He straightened his back and narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Prussia. "I will not let them retreat from Prussian soil. The conquest will continue until every Prussian is either baptised or wiped from that land, and Prussia will be a region defending the borders of this mighty empire. And that's final." He then looked at the personification of his empire, who dipped his head to his monarch. "Holy Roman, your brother will be allowed to stay here for as long as he wishes, so long as this topic will not be brought up again. Please bring him up to his room now. I don't have time to waste on nonsense such as this."  
"Of course, Your Highness," Holy Roman said with another small bow. Then he turned away and took Prussia away as well.

"That was blunt," Prussia muttered with a glance over his shoulder once they exited the palace. He narrowed his eyes in anger and huffed before looking at Holy Roman again. "I understand his decision from his point of view, but from mine, he could've been a _bit_ nicer about it."  
"But it's as you said, Prussia," Holy Roman told him calmly. "This conquest won't kill you, so why put a stop to it? In fact, I believe _that_ would sooner kill you than letting it continue. If my theory is right, you were born solely because of what is happening now."  
"And if you're wrong," Prussia muttered angrily, "I _will_ die before this is over."  
"But enough of that," Holy Roman sighed, looking at the younger boy with a warm smile. It still surprised Prussia how cheerful his supposed older brother was around him. The only one to have been like that before him was Hungary. _Maybe fellow countries will be a bit more sympathetic than humans in general_ , he thought hopefully. He didn't need a bunch of friends and all that, he'd lived for decades on his own and was perfectly fine like that, but to not be hated and shunned by everyone would be nice for once. "You were offered to stay here, Prussia," Holy Roman went on. "Are you going to take up that offer?"  
Prussia stared at him a moment longer, silent, then nodded. Holy Roman smiled and said he was glad to hear that, and the two walked further, side by side.

Having family, Prussia decided, probably wouldn't be so bad...

* * *

 **Yes, the Holy Roman Empire is older than Prussia. A good 230 years in this fic, even (the Holy Roman Empire came to be in the year 962). He is in fact also older than Austria, as the Margriavate of Austria came into existence 14 years later, in 976, and later became a Duchy in the HRE in 1156. Hungary is older than them, that's correctly portrayed in Hetalia. But Italy is older. I'm not sure which year to choose for the two Italies' 'births', as there have been a lot of different states in that land. But let's say they both lived in time to meet the Roman Empire as Hetalia suggests... they would've been born in the 5th century. If I pick the year when the Kingdom of the Lombards fell, that would be 774. And the year Charlemagne was crowned emperor in Rome? 800.**

 **I'm not sure. If any of you have suggestions for their age, please tell me. (Also, Charlemagne was crowned Emperor of the Romans in 800, which might be seen as the start od the Holy Roman Empire, but another source also states 962 as the year the Holy Roman Empire came to be... Suggestions about that, anyone? It doesn't change the fact that HRE is older than Prussia, anyway)**

 **Yeah. I found Irish history a lot easier to write about (laughs)**

 **Well, thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hiya! Got a new chapter for you!**

 **First of all, as per usual, a thank you to Crossfire, KunnegAndris and Abc for reviewing, and to Will Solace for the follow and favourite (and the favourite on Rising as well!)  
KunnegAndris, I like your idea, but the different stories in this series will overlap a bit on the matter of characters and certain events. For example, for those who read Rising, the events of Christmas 1914 (at the start of WWI) will be the same in _Hope to Die,_ which will be the sequel to CYH. The interaction between Scotland, Germany and Prussia will be the same, I mean, but from a different perspective. Things like that.  
So, seeing as France was male in Rising and Trouble, he will be here, too. (And uh... about him and England... _stuff_. You'll see. It'll be a little different from canon Hetalia.)  
And Crossfire, yes, Cross Your Heart will go until 1871-ish, and from there on, it's Hope to Die, which will go on until... 2016-ish, I suppose. I'll see about that. So there will be big brother Prussia raising little brother Germany eventually ;)**

 **Well now, that's about it for now. Except for: new introduction this chapter!  
** **I hope you'll enjoy!**

* * *

 _12 May 1234_

 _I finally got a new book to write in! Holy Rome found my journal a few months ago, and though not much, he has read in it. And apparently he decided to give me the oppertunity to write more._  
 _I've been with him in Sicily for nearly four years now. Looking back, I realised that four years ago was exactly the last time I've written in a journal, so it was about time again._  
 _I can still feel the pain of the conquest, though I can no longer tell what's damage to my people, what's damage to my land and what's damage to the Teutonic Knights. It turns out my brother was right, and those matters are getting a little blurry by now._  
 _That's right, my brother. I've come to accept that a long time ago now. Holy Rome and I are brothers. And you know what? He's a great older brother, at that! He's taught me a lot, though I managed to teach him a thing or two, as well. Due to my previous profession, I'm a much better warrior than him, and he still can't beat me in a swordfight._  
 _The Teutonic Knights are building fortresses within Prussia now to aid them in their crusade, and they have an army of nearly 10.000 crusaders now._  
 _There's no way the Prussians will survive this..._

 _31 October 1240_

 _Holy Rome and I are traveling north now, to other territories of the Holy Roman Empire. He really wanted to take a detour and pass through Venice, which I don't get. Sure, it's a beautiful city from what I've heard, but shouldn't we head up to German territory instead?_  
 _Instead of that, we're in the Duchy of Austria right now. And today, I've also met the personification of this Duchy. What an arrogant, sissy little prick he is! Condescending and weak, the perfect combination to make up an asshole. Acts like he's better than me, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even be strong enough to pick up my sword. Ha!_  
 _My 'cousin', Holy Rome tells me. Blegh._  
 _I hate him._

Prussia sat at a table during dinner with the 'family'. Holy Rome was ignoring Prussia's hostile stares to Austria, but the other boy couldn't keep it up as long as the blonde one. Eventually he sighed. "Is something the matter, Prussia?"  
"Yeah," the Prussian mumbled, narrowing his eyes. "Y'know, 't really bothers me that you look so weak. How can you be German? All Germans are really tough."  
"Don't speak like that, you sound like a barbarian," Austria scolded him calmly. "Though, given who you are and who you represent, it's fitting. And is anything wrong with representing the more cultural side of our family, Prussia? Culture is as important as, if not more so than military strength." He huffed and looked away again. "Like you would know, though, a little warrior like you. And for the record, I know how to defend my borders and conquer others well enough, thank you very much."  
"Oh really?" Prussia asked him. "When's the last time you fought a war?"  
"There've been plenty of border skirmishes with the Kingdom of Hungary lately."  
"Border skirmishes!" Prussia echoed with a laugh. "I'm not talking about a few traders punching each other as they cross the border, I'm talking about _war_! You know, of the likes _I'm_ in now?"  
Austria chuckled at this, mumbling, "Oh, yes, I can see you're fighting _very hard._ "  
"I'm meeting my family right now!" Prussia protested fiercely, jumping to his feet. "When Holy Rome goes back to Sicily, I'll go to _my_ land again!"  
"And that's how many years from now?"  
Prussia slammed his hands on the table, gritting his teeth and glaring at his supposed cousin, about to answer to that angrily when Holy Rome intervened. "That's enough, both of you," he said calmly, not even looking up. "Prussia, the difference between the two of you may not be that great, Austria is still your elder, and a part of my empire at that. You should show some respect, especially since he's shown you great hospitality until now, giving you both food and a place to sleep. As for you, Austria," he added, turning to the dark-haired duchy. "Let's not forget that Prussia here has spent most of his life as a knight. He cannot help having been raised for battle."  
The white-haired boy narrowed his eyes at this, but said nothing. Holy Rome was making it sound as though Prussia was an uneducated barbarian who could just about tell the difference between an axe and a sword, but not a flute and a harp. _I wonder if sissy Austria knows the difference between a dagger and a sword_ , he thought with a smirk, which he hid quickly.  
The rest of the evening, Austria and Prussia said not a word to each other anymore, though that was more out of respect for the Holy Roman Empire than for each other. Austria ignored Prussia while he pestered the older Duchy with questions and mocking comments when Holy Rome was out of earshot, however. And they strangely enjoyed doing that, so why would they stop?

* * *

"Well, as you can see, Holy Rome," Austria said proudly as the trio rode through the streets of one of his larger cities on horseback. "Everything is going perfectly well here. There is no need to worry about the Duchy of Austria." Prussia rolled his eyes. Austria was such an arrogant stuck-up prick. He acted like his little duchy was paradise on Earth, and he hated it. Austria's scathing remarks about his people being barbarians, whether they were the native Prussians or the Teutonic Knights as they were both just as bad according to him, also did nothing to make him seem a little more sympathetic. _Well,_ Prussia thought, staring at his cousin. _I'm an awesome knight, and you're a little prick. Simple conclusion: I'm better, stronger, more awesome than you._ And then he smiled. Someday he was going to show Austria all of this, prove to him that he was worthless compared to who he himself perceived as such. But first he needed to solve his own problems. Which, of course, he could. No problem. He just didn't feel like it quite yet.  
"Your people are indeed doing just fine, Austria," Holy Rome observed contently, gazing at the people. Then he narrowed his eyes and added, "Though I must say, they appear a bit nervous around us."  
"Who wouldn't be," Austria said calmly, "with someone like Prussia around." He seemed genuinely shocked by his own words then, and he turned to Prussia almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, Prussia," he said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that, it's just... they're not used to it."  
Prussia glared at him, stiffening with anger. He rode up closer to the duchy, gritting his teeth. "Oh, you meant it, all right!" he muttered. "You meant it as much as I mean this!" In a split second, he'd pulled his sword, and kept it close to his cousin's throat. Austria didn't flinch, only glared at him and said that he _hadn't_ meant for his words to be insulting, but facts were facts, and Prussia would send shivers down anyone's spine. "Oh, so you _want_ to die?" Prussia said threateningly, pushing the end of his blade closer to Austria's skin, piercing it a little. "Little sissy boy has a spine somewhere, after all!" He pulled his sword back then, ready to slash this annoying country to pieces, but something moved in a flash and hit him hard on the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and throwing him off his horse. He hit the ground hard, sending burning pain through his back and his skull, which hit the sand and stone ground with a loud thud. He grunted in pain, looking up. Holy Roman sat with a straight back on his dark brown horse, his sword drawn as he glared at his little brother.  
"That's quite enough, Prussia," he said calmly, though the anger was as clear in his voice as it was on his face. "I understand you feel offended, but Austria's right: facts are facts. Your own people will one day be used to you, like the Teutonic Order was. For now, you will just have to put up with this. Understood?"  
"No!" Prussia exclaimed, jumping up, ignoring the pain in his chest and back. "No, I don't understand! _You_ don't understand! I've had to 'put up' with this for 48 years!" He quickly grabbed his sword again, ready to defend himself should Holy Rome decide to teach him some more 'discipline'. "The Teutonic Order was _okay_ with it, but it's not like they enjoyed having me around! I've been an outcast my whole damn life, and it was _finally_ starting to look up when I met you. And now, _he's_ not really helping!" he added angrily, pointing at Austria with his sword.  
"I said I was sorry, didn't I?" Austria protested, getting angry now too.  
"And what about mocking my land and my people all the damn time?"  
"That's your _people!_ " Austria exclaimed. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but practically the first thing you said to me was an _insult_ to me, personally! Prussia, I'm not making an effort of hiding that I despise your people, for I think they're just brutes. But so far, it's not like I have anything against _you_ as a person. Why should I care what you look like? _But my people care_. Humans care about things like that Prussia, they're superficial creatures like that, never thinking further than about what they can see." _You're not making it sound like you don't care,_ Prussia thought angrily, gritting his teeth. He was masking his pain with a look of pure rage, but quite honestly, he felt closer to crying than anything else.  
"Prussia," Holy Rome then said, his calm voice robbing Prussia of his mask in a heartbeat, and the white-haired boy quickly looked away. "Why don't you go back already? We won't be long. There's just a few things we have to handle yet."  
Prussia took a deep breath, forced himself to glare again, and looked up. "Fine," he huffed. "See ya." Then he jumped onto his horse again, turned it around, and galloped back to the house Austria had claimed in this city for the three of them -it was usually empty after the owner died.

It took only a few minutes for Prussia to arrive there again, and by then, he was gripping his horse's manes and burying his face in it, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. It wasn't so much that Austria had hurt him like that, he could take that. It wasn't that the people were scared of him, and that, whatever Austria and Holy Rome were doing now, it was probably going a lot better than when he'd been with them. It was that he'd made Holy Rome so angry that he'd attacked his little brother and sent him away like that. That had never happened before. _He's probably still angry with me!_ he though desperately. _He'll send me back to Sicily... or to Prussia!_ He felt lonelier than he had since he'd known Holy Rome. "I-if he sends me away," he choked out to himself, still hugging his horse's neck for the sake of holding something, "I'll go to Hungary! I don't care how long it'll take to find him, _I'll go to Hungary!_ " He then got off his horse and walked out of the stable, angrily kicking a pebble away. He still felt tears trailing down his cheeks, but now they were of anger. _He_ hadn't done anything wrong, this had been _Austria's_ fault. If that blasted prick could just keep his comments to himself like Prussia could -he only spoke about a tenth of the things he thought about his _dear_ cousin- then Prussia wouldn't have gotten so pissed, and this wouldn't have happened. _And then act all innocent, you little bastard,_ he muttered in silence, huffing. _'I said I was sorry, didn't I' my awesome ass!_ But then he told himself to just recall Austria's eyes right after he'd said that about Prussia making his people nervous. He really had been honest when he'd apologised. _Only makes it worse. Now I can't be angry at you..._

Bored and hungry, but most of all in need of distraction, he just started cooking a few minutes later. The sun was already setting, and Austria and Holy Rome would be back soon. If they really were still angry with him, it was best if he did something to show he was sorry. Because he wasn't going to _say_ he was sorry, not in a million years. He had nothing to be sorry for. Well, not much that is. He'd just about gotten water to boil above a fire and put some cut vegetables in it when Holy Rome and Austria got back. He turned to greet them quickly, then said nothing anymore. The two inspected him for a moment. Of course they'd seen his red-rimmed eyes, but they decided not to comment on that: they knew of his pride, and saying anything now would only damage that. Austria just walked up to him and looked into the pot. "Have you thought about using that deer I have there?" he asked, nodding to said piece of meat.  
"I've _thought_ about it," Prussia answered flatly. "But meat is expensive, so I wasn't sure whether or not to use it..."  
Austria smiled at him, looking genuinely good-humoured and kind for a moment. "Sure you can, I saved it especially for tonight -you two will be leaving tomorrow. Here, if I can use your dagger, I'll just cut it up." Prussia smirked handing him his dagger, a relatively new addition to his arsenal of weapons, which now consisted of his Teutonic sword, a handmade bow and this Sicilian dagger, which he'd gotten a few months ago.  
"Why not just use a knife?" he asked, getting a little nervous when he saw the blade slice through the meat only a hair away from Austria's fingertips.  
"I could, but the knives I have are either not that sharp, or small, which makes it annoying to cut meat of this size," was the Austrian's flat answer. "So I rather -ow!" What Prussia had already deemed inevitable happened, and the older boy cut deep into his own fingers, slicing through three of them. How had he not seen he was so close to chopping off half his own hand? Prussia hurried over to his side just as the Austrian moved his fingers a bit. They were bleeding badly, but at least they all still worked. "Darn," he muttered, gritting his teeth in pain. "This always happens..."  
Meanwhile, Holy Rome brought a woolen shawl he'd seen somewhere, and wrapped it around Austria's hand. "Always?" he asked curiously as he worked. "Surely you know to keep a knife at a proper distance from your own hand?"  
"I do, I always keep it at a few centimetres," Austria protested with a confused shimmer in his dark blue, purple-ish eyes. "But somehow I always end up cutting myself."  
Prussia suddenly got an idea, and quickly went to grab his journal, quill and inkwell. He wrote a single sentence in the top corner of a page, in the smallest handwriting he could write, but still very easily readible. Then he held it in front of his cousin. "Can you read this to me, Austria?" he asked simply, calm as though talking about the weather.  
Austria just blinked at him and then squinted at the page, huffing a few seconds later. "That's too tiny for anyone to read!" he protested. But when Holy Rome shook his head and said that he could easily read it, and read it out loud to prove it, he looked a little less sure.  
Prussia had to stop himself from smiling at this achievement. Was he seriously the first person to figure this out, based on a single evening at that? That proved it: he must be really smart. "Your eyes are bad," he told his cousin calmly. "I mean, everything's blurry, isn't it?" Austria shook his head and protested that he could see just fine and that his sight was perfectly normal, but Prussia then couldn't hold back a few chuckles anymore. "Normal for _you_ , maybe, but I'd probably feel blind with sight like that! I mean, to not even be able to read this, and to not even see the difference between your hand and a slice of deer? Your eyes are _bad_ , Austria, deal with it." He then beckoned to Holy Rome to help him finish dinner, while Austria just went on mumbling that nothing was wrong with his eyes, but by now his protests started to sound more like questions.

The evening didn't last long anymore after that, and there were no more fights between Prussia and Austria. Prussia knew to be careful enough now, as he didn't want to risk angering Holy Rome for real this time. He was the first to fall asleep after discussing with Holy Rome where they'd go next, giving Austria and the empire a chance to talk in private.  
"He seems like a decent kid," Austria said softly, glancing at his cousin. "He's kind and helpful, like earlier, about my eyes. He wouldn't have bothered to tell me anything if he didn't care. But at the same time..." He trailed off with a sigh and shook his head, not knowing how to put it to words.  
Holy Rome nodded. "He wants to be like everyone else so bad... Right now, he just gets hurt so easily by how others treat him simply because he looks different." He leaned forward and gently ran his fingers through the boy's white hair. Prussia was fast asleep, and didn't even twitch at the movement, so the young empire felt safe enough to continue talking about him like this. "I pray every day that one day, the world will accept him. When that day comes, maybe he'll be different. He's arrogant and quick tempered, but I think it's only because the way other people treat him hurts him so bad. If others think he's not worth anything, he'll prove them wrong. That's what I figured out about him in the past ten years... I hope I'm right."  
Austria huffed softly. "Well, he can go about it a bit better, if you ask me. This way, he'll only antagonize more people. I can tell you honestly, even though tonight went all right, he's definitely not my favourite cousin. Not even close, and I don't think he'll ever be if he doesn't change his attitude."  
Holy Rome sighed deeply, eyes cast down. "I understand that. Frankly, he's not my favourite family member, either, though he and I do get along really well. I'm worried about him, Austria. That attitude of his will only get him into trouble at this rate..." Then he shook his head and stretched, yawning. Then he chuckled and looked back at his duchy. "But let's not worry. He and I have to leave tomorrow, and you'd better head back to your duke then, too. Goodnight, Austria." He then got up and went outside for a moment, wanting some fresh air before he'd sleep. Austria softly wished him goodnight too, the looked back at Prussia. If they could spend more evenings together like this one had been, maybe one day they'd get along. But for now, he wasn't sad to see him go again the next morning.  
"You shouldn't be bothered by what other people think and say, Prussia," he told him softly, lying down as well, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "Just let them think whatever they want. You look like a kid who knows his own worth well enough not to be bothered by all that. So try to act like it for once, too."  
People would like him a lot better if he did, probably. And it wasn't like Austria didn't care about what happened to Prussia. He did. They were cousins, after all, and family mattered to him, even if their personalities were worlds apart.

* * *

 **I'm not sure yet what to do with the next chapter... I suppose I can let him meet more of his family members, but I don't want the 13th century to take too long in this fic. The real action for Prussia starts later, after all! So maybe I'll send him back to his land at the start of the next. I'll see abouy that. (And I need to study up on this history more still!)  
Hm. And I'd rather not let it be too long until he returns to Hungary as well, and we all know why~**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi again! I have chapter 6 ready now!**

 **Nilinara, Rockcutter28 and Limmo, thanks for the follows! Crossfire, Abc and Hearts of Iron, thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you liked the interaction between Austria and Prussia.  
Abc, I'll check if you're right about Austria and his glasses. If so... he'll wear the in modern days to look sophisticated, instead of wearing contacts, for his eyes are the right shape to wear contacts, unlike another character I wrote. Problem solved!  
And from what I read, Prussia is secretly diligent, punctual and very serious, though he acts like the obnoxious jerk we all know from Hetalia. Because of those aspects of his personality, I also imagine him as very intelligent, though just like his hardworking side, he hides it for whatever reason.**

 **Anyway, I'm still looking forward to the more modern times... so much easier to write about, both daily life and historical events.**

 **Well, that was enough rambling. Here's chapter 6:**

* * *

 _10 June 1243_

 _The Teutonic Order is hopeless without me, clearly. They lost a battle on ice against the Russians a year ago, the Polish lost against the Mongols in 1241 and now can't support the Teutonics anymore, and because of some trading issues, the new Duke of Pomerania, Swantopolk II, has started fighting the Order. They're helpless like this._  
 _And thus the Prussians have decided it was time to rise. They've captured quite a number of the Teutonic castles -which, might I add, look great on this stretch of land, I've missed their architecture over the years- and the Teutonics have only captured Sartowice and Nakel, both property of Swantopolk._  
 _I never thought I'd say this, but the Prussians are good. But they're constantly hurting me -conclusion: the Teutonics_ _are_ _my people, after all, that at least is good to know- so I guess it's time for me to step up. I've been inspecting the Knights from a distance for some days now, and they're really in need of their country to help them. And so I will!_  
 _I wonder how this will go. Though they look too old to fight now, Arnulf and Volkmar are still alive, and they were there when they expelled me from this crusade. Well, I'll show them that no one can permanently expell Prussia! Or the Teutonic Order State, I suppose, but I don't want to change my name_ _again_ _, and it's still the name of the region, after all._

Prussia put his journal away, straightened his back, shook any sand from his clothes and walked proudly toward the Culm, the Teutonic castle in Culmerland. It was one of the few they had left. This was the first land they'd gotten in Prussian territory, and still a strong base of operations, though Prussia hadn't been lying when he'd written things were looking bleak for the Teutonic Order right now. He'd help them right back up. Three knights on guard duty spotted him after mere seconds, and grabbed their bows immediately. "Halt!" one called. "Stay away, demon! This is no place for you."  
Prussia rolled his eyes. These men were all too young to recognize him. "Shoot me if you want," he called back, annoyed. "It won't help you, anyway! Call Volkmar or Arnulf here, they'll know who I am." The men looked doubtful, but eventually, one nodded and left, leaving the other two to keep their bows drawn, aiming at Prussia, ready to shoot if he so much as moved. They couldn't kill him, he knew very well, but they could hurt him, and he wasn't looking forward to having to pull arrows from his chest, so he stayed put while he waited for the two elders to arrive. He wondered for a moment if they would recognise him, as he'd grown quite a bit in the 13 years he'd been away and wore clothes more befitting of a nobleman than a crusader like them, but then he sighed. Like they'd ever forget _him,_ honestly.  
It wasn't long before the young knight came back with Volkmar behind him. Arnulf was nowhere to be seen. The man's eyes widened as he saw Prussia, and he froze where he stood. "Gilbert," he choked out softly. "It's you."  
"Surprise," Prussia said dryly, sighing again and crossing his arms over his chest. "Bet you didn't think I'd return, did you?"  
"Actually," the old man answered with a tiny, wry smile, "I figured as much. I take it you're here to help your people with their uprising?" He narrowed his eyes, and his smile faded, his expression changing to one of caution and suspicion.  
"I've indeed come to help my people," Prussia corrected him with a grin. "I've come to help them stand up against the enemy's uprising. Now, what do you need me to do? Spy on the Prussians? Train your knights? Whatever you need, I'll be at your service." He laughed for a moment and shrugged. "Well, at _my_ service, honestly. I'm sick of you losing and me being in pain all the time."  
But Volkmar shook his head. "We told you not to interfere, Gilbert," he told the child, now roughly 10 years old by body. "That still stands. I will not expect you to leave, for I can't make you, but we don't need you here."  
"But you're my people!" Prussia protested angrily, gritting his teeth and taking a step closer to the man. The other knights nearly shot him, but Volkmar stopped them. "You're my people, and I need to protect you! And I _know_ I can -the Prussians don't have an immortal on their side, she died ages ago! She died and was reborn into me, but the people connected to Prussia aren't the _currently_ native Prussians anymore, it's _you!_ And I'm your _immortal_ representative, I'm your country!"  
"You weren't 13 years ago," Volkmar told him calmly. "You begged us to spare the Prussians, and now you beg to help us fight against them?" He shook his head again and was about to turn around and leave when Prussia protested again.  
"I was confused then!" he tried to convince the human. "I took me years to figure out what was really going on here, but now I know, and it's exactly what I just told you!" He took another step closer, but Volkmar was already leaving.  
"I do not doubt that you are immortal, Gilbert," the old human answered softly. "I've known you too long to still doubt that. But I have yet to figure out who you really belong to. For now and until you have proven your allegiance, please leave." And then Volkmar was gone, back into the castle, leaving the young country to just stand there.  
Scoffing, Prussia turned around and walked away, not even caring anymore if the knights still standing on guard there would shoot him or not.

But they didn't, and he soon found himself on the edge of a forest again, where he'd made a small camp for himself some time ago. There, he kicked away a peble and sat down. "I know it's complicated," he muttered softly, half to himself, but mainly to the Teutonic Knights, who couldn't hear him anymore anyway. "But I think I finally figured it out! And I can help, dammit, I can!" His newest theory was this: while this transition of people was still going on, he was connected to the land more than the people, and the people most connected to that land were the ones affecting him. When he first came to Prussia, that were without a doubt the Prussians, though he felt no real emotional connection to them. What he'd felt the night before he was made to leave was only the land being destroyed, combined with his own confusion and frustration. The Teutonic Knights and crusaders had resided in the regoin long enough now that they were part of this land, somehow. At least, Prussia was finally more connected to them. In fact, they had created the Teutonic State back in 1230, and Prussia was starting to represent that more than anything else these days. He just didn't want to change his name again, and 'Prussia' was a lot shorter and easier than 'Teutonic State', which was in fact already a shorter version of the official name, 'State of the Teutonic Order'.  
He didn't know if his theory was right or not. But it was the best he could think of. And besides, the only thing that mattered to him was that he didn't have to represent pagan Baltics, and could instead be a christian German. It was so much easier to represent what you were raised as, than something he was against. Not that he had something against Baltics, but pagans... he really didn't like those. What was so hard about following the _right_ beliefs? The only right ones? That's what he'd always been told in the Order, anyway, that the christian beliefs were the only right ones in the world, and that all the others should vanish. He didn't know for sure, of course, but he knew better than to question it.

He sighed and let his chin rest on his knees. Why couldn't he just grow up as fast as any human? He was sure that if he had the body of a man instead of a child, people would listen to him more. He'd proven over the years that he was intelligent, hardworking and strong. He could beat three people in a fight singlehandedly back in Sicily, when he'd stayed with Holy Rome. He deserved way more respect than he got from anyone. They should all listen to him. He didn't _act_ like he knew everything better, he _did_ know better than them. When it came to fighting at least, and many other things, too. _Just look at what I figured out about little sissy cousin,_ he sighed to himself.  
Then he suddenly looked up as he heard a faint squeaking not too far from him. Curious, he got up, looking around. He couldn't see anything, but it sounded like a mouse. And he couldn't have mice around, considering he had food stored in a sack in his small tent. He'd catch it and release it somewhere far away from his food. He walked to a tree, where the sound seemed to be loudest, and looked carefully in the tall grass. What he saw was not a mouse, though, but a tiny bird. Judging by how few feathers it had, it was only a little chick. "You fell from your nest, didn't you?" he asked softly, picking it up carefully. Then he looked up, peering through the branches. There were too many leaves to see if there was a nest, but there must be, he figured. "I'd climb in the tree and place you back in if I could, but... I can't see where your nest is, little one." He then looked back at the chick, hearing it squeak for its parents, for food, whatever birds squeaked for. He sighed, feeling sorry for it. "I'll see if you can eat some of my food, then," he told it. "And then I'll see about getting you home." He sat down with the tiny animal still in his hands, staring at the sky, eventually finding himself stroking the bird absent-mindedly. At least he wasn't alone now.

* * *

Three days later, Prussia tried reasoning with the Teutonic Knights once more, but again, he was rejected. But he'd already resolved to fight alongside the Knights if necessary.  
The little bird stayed with him -he couldn't find its nest again, so he kept it. He hoped he could keep it alive, but he wasn't sure. He'd never taken care of an animal before, aside from a horse. When he had nothing to do, at least he could busy himself with taking care of that bird.  
Two days after speaking to the Teutonic Knights again, things went wrong. The Prussians had been raiding Culmerland for some time now, but it hadn't been as bad yet as it was on 15 June 1243.  
He woke just before noon, after he'd spent several hours that night looking after the little chick, with a stabbing pain in his back. He felt like he'd been working out all every waking moment the day before, and his muscles were now paying the price. But he hadn't, and he couldn't imagine what caused this pain. He tried to get up, but his back hurt too much to hold him up, and he collapsed on his knees. Sitting back down, he checked under his tunic, where he usually kept the bird as he slept -he always slept on his side or back, so there was no way he could crush the tiny animal, and it was a warm place to sleep. The animal was still there, and let out a high-pitched peep as Prussia checked on it. "We have to go, little thing," he told it, his voice strained. Every movement hurt now, but he fought himself to his feet once again, grabbed his sword, dagger, bow and arrows and stumbled away from his small makeshift tent. He made his way over to the Culm as quick as he could, and wished he hadn't.  
He'd heard what was going on before he saw it, and dread filled his entire being. The Prussians had reached the Osa river near the Culm and were fighting the Knights. The Baltic tribe had more men than the Teutonics did, for all he could tell. He couldn't count how many there were, but the Teutonic Knights were up against a far greater number of men than they could possibly handle. The bird under his tunic squirmed a little and squeaked, but he paid it no mind. This was it. This was the moment he had to help his people, prove to them that he was on their side. Still hiding in the trees, he grabbed his bow and reached into his quiver, grabbing an arrow. He aimed at one of the Prussians' heads, but hit his shoulder instead. The man looked around, but couldn't locate the shooter. Meanwhile, Prussia was already aiming his next arrow. With this one, he managed to kill someone. He shot one more, and then another and yet another arrow, then grabbed his sword and charged forward with a loud battlecry. He jumped on a Prussian's back, clamping to his sides with his feet and stabbing him just under the neck. He let himself fall the moment the human fell as well, and landed neatly on his feet. In the heat of battle, he could forget the pain he felt as his people suffered, and he fought with all the fire he had in him. He slashed at the Prussians with a grin plastered on his face. He'd always loved fighting. With the red haze of rage blurring his sight, he always felt stronger and more free than ever before, like he could do anything he wanted to, like he was invincible, like no one could even touch him.  
At one point, he found himself surrounded by four of the raiding Prussians, and without thinking, he held his sword in one hand and grabbed his dagger with the other. Fighting with two weapons was harder than he'd thought, especially since his sword was too heavy to carry with in one hand, but his rage brought him to ignore the burning pain in his muscles.  
He was satisfied to feel warm blood splattering on his face as he fought. This was the dance he loved most: the dance of battle, the music of bloodshed. Let sissy Austria listen to his music however much he wanted, _this_ was what Prussia loved to do, what he was best at. Defending his people, fighting to protect what was his. Slaughtering the enemy as though they were livestock.

He didn't know how long he'd lasted like that until he was too hurt to continue. Tortured by his back and bleeding all over, he collapsed onto his knees. The red haze that had clouded his vision as he fought faded, and he saw the Teutonic Knights, lying dead on the ground around him, defeated by the Prussians. There were too many bodies to count, both Teutonic and Prussian, and as he realised he was kneeling in a field of corpses, he felt his stomach twist. How many of those people had he killed? How many of the Teutonic Knights had made it, and fled the battle? He hoped those who had managed to get away were going to castle Rehden, or maybe Sartowice, the Pomeranian castle they had managed to capture in the winter of 1242, which was on the other side of the river. Those places should be safer than here. _I'll come, too_ , he thought vaguely. _I'll come and fight with you again..._  
Trembling, he lay down on his back, staring up at the sky, blue and filled with fluffy-looking white clouds, calm as if the bloodbath had never taken place. He had to become stronger, calm like the sky was in battle, but with deadly force like thunder. He wasn't ready to protect his people yet. Not yet...  
He closed his eyes, listening to the last Prussians, moving between the bodies of the fallen, checking for survivors. As he heard them approach, he stopped breathing, just in case. He didn't know when he continued breathing, or if he even did. He blacked out in a heartbeat.

* * *

He was woken again by the feeling of something poking his cheek, and he groggily opened his eyes. He was inside somewhere, but he didn't know where. Looking to his side, he saw the little bird poking him in the cheek with its beak. It had a few more feathers than when he'd last seen it, which told him it was a few days after the battle, and someone had looked after his bird while he'd been unconscious.  
He then noticed he wasn't wearing his tunic anymore, and he sat up and looked down at his body. None of the wounds he'd gotten in battle were still there or had turned into scars, at least not what he could see. Ignoring the protests of his sore back, he brushed his fingers over his back. and just beneath his left shoulderblade, he felt a thin strip of rougher skin, slightly swollen and a little warmer than the rest. Now that was his scar of this battle. _So Culmerland is located in my back_ , he thought absent-mindedly. _Or was it the Knights that were killed who were represented by that section of my body?_ What did it even matter. It was his first scar in his 52 years of life. This must've been a grave defeat. He looked down at his bird when it squeaked again, and tickled it carefully behind its tiny head. Then he got up, stumbling out of the room he was in. There were voices outside, and he looked around. There were three men talking just outside the room he'd woken up in, and it took him a moment to recognise them as Teutonic Knights. He blinked at them, watching them for a moment, but they didn't notice him standing there yet. "Where am I?" he rasped then, interrupting one of them as he spoke.  
The men looked at him now, looking surprised. "Rehden castle," one of them answered. "It's good to see you awake, Gilbert."  
Prussia then blinked again. Now he was the one surprised. "You know me?" he asked softly, hoping the fog in his mind would soon disappear. "How?"  
"The knights at Culm were told who you are after you visited them on the 10th. The survivors that came here then informed us in turn," another of the humans explained. "We know you're about half a century old, though it looks more like a decade. You're immortal. But you're also one of the best warriors the Teutonic Order has seen."  
"If you know those things," the young country said, leaning against the wall as he looked up at the men with half-closed eyes, "then you should also know that my name isn't Gilbert. I'm Prussia. But I'm _your_ Prussia, the Teutonic Prussia, not the Baltic one. Don't worry about that." The men nodded, not protesting against that. Just the fact that Prussia had healed so quickly despite the gruesome wounds he'd gotten erased any doubt about what he said. Pleasantly surprised by how easily they accepted this information, Prussia continued. "So... what are you going to do about the Prussians now? This can't go on as it is now. We'll be driven from this land and... I'll die if that happens. If I die, it means there's no Teutonic Prussia anymore, and the conquest will have failed." He rubbed the palm of his hand against his forehead, trying to stop a headache from coming on, before he went on again. "So long as I'm alive, there's hope for this conquest to succeed. And I feel fine -relatively. So there's hope, but not like this. What's the plan?"  
"We don't know yet, Prussia," the third of the men said, and the country felt a surge of warmth as he heard one of his people adress him as a country for the first time ever. "We're working on it."  
Prussia fell silent for a moment, thinking. He didn't have any numbers, but just the fact he had a scar on his back told him he'd lost a lot of people in that one battle. The Knights were weakened by what happened on the banks of the Osa river, and he wasn't sure how they'd manage for now, until their ranks were filled with strong, young people again. "We need help," he said softly, musing to himself but at the same time speaking to the three knights. "Against the Prussians, but also against Swantopolk. He'll use our defeat in his advantage. Especially now that Culm has fallen-"  
"It hasn't," one of the humans corrected him. "But some survivors were brought here as it seemed safer."  
"Great. But still, we'll need help. We should put our energy into gathering forces to defend Culmerland," Prussia then concluded, sighing afterward and closing his eyes. He was leaning more heavily against the wall then he had at first, and after a moment, he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
"We'll mention it the the new marshal," one of the humans told him softly. "You should rest now. Lie down, and we'll bring water and food." _New marshal,_ Prussia thought, shocked. _That means the previous one is dead._ "I mean it, Prussia, you should rest for now. You were badly hurt in the battle." Prussia nodded and stumbled back into the room, lying back down there. For a moment, he missed his comfortable room back in Sicily with Holy Rome, but he fell asleep soon enough, not bothered by the lack of comfort here anymore.

Prussia's advice was followed then. The Teutonic Knights gathered help from Masovia, Greater Poland and Pomerellia -the latter being the brothers of Swantopolk II, joping to regain thir inheritance by helping the Knigths defeat their brother. The others were offered land in Prussia in exchange for their help.  
Prussia had also been right about Swantopolk, who lay siege on Culm not too long after the defeat near the Osa river. Even with an army of 2000 men, he was unsuccessful, and was driven back by the Teutonic Knights once again. Now that they had help, things went better for the Teutonic Knights again. 4 years later, in 1247, negotiations started between the Teutonics, the Prussians and Swantopolk. The latter was forced to stop aiding the Prussians in their uprising against the Knights, and the Prussians in turn had to sign the Treaty of Christburg 3 years later, on 7 February 1249. Battle didn't end, but it lessened greatly.

In 1252, a year before the Prussian uprising truly ended, Prussia decided he had to become stronger yet to help his people, who had now accepted him as their country, though they weren't very enthusiastic about it yet. He trained with the Knights, but eventually decided to travel again to gain more experiences. It wasn't just because he wanted to get stronger that he left, though -he also just wanted to meet the one person he hadn't seen in decades again, tell him about all the things he'd learned since they last saw each other. He knew he could train with him as well, and get stronger, and return to Prussia with enough experience to help his people in their conquest.  
But for now, he would go to Hungary.

* * *

 **Before anyone starts flaming me, Prussia's opinions on things, such as pagans or religion in general, are not mine. In fact, I'm an atheist, though I have nothing against religion. So when he described christianity as the only right religion, just remember, I was merely trying to stay true to the beliefs of this time in history. I understand how this may be offensive to some, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to offend anyone.**

 **With that out of the way, I hope the history in this was accurate enough. I'm never sure about that... But whatever, it's fiction, and it's not like I learn these things anywhere. I do it as my hobby, so forgive me for making making mistakes.**

 **And do forgive Prussia's antics in battle. He was described as a war maniac once or twice in canon Hetalia, a 'hooligan who did nothing but fight' and all such things. I imagine he loves fighting, but the aftermath of it is more horrible to him.**

 **And finally, I was looking forward to writing about Hungary again. And let's take into consideration that she's about 2 years older than Prussia still, and he's 9 or 10 now... Yeah, it's about time for him to find out *grinning***

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Holy crap this chapter is short. Sorry for that.  
I hope Hungary makes up for it.  
**

 **45643ga, thanks for the favourite, and Awesomely Random and Crossfire, thanks for the reviews!**

 **I'll be busy this week with tests, so I can't promise that the next chapter will be much longer. And if it is, it might take a little while longer. I don't know, but we'll see.**

 **I hope you'll enjoy it!**

* * *

 _18 March 1253_

 _I left for Hungary four months ago, and though I've been within the borders of this kingdom for a while, it took me until now to find Hungary again. He's grown up about as fast as I have, and is in his pre-teens now, like Holy Rome. Or like he was when I left, at least. I don't know how old he would be now: he told me a country stops growing when they don't develop much anymore, and he hasn't been doing so for a while, he said. But I have, with the Teutonic Order State growing stronger, so I've been growing up._  
 _And as has Hungary. But I must say, he looks a little... odd. Still wears his hair in that ponytail, that hasn't changed, but his face looks a little off. He has the same fine features he did when he looked younger, only thinner now. At this rate, it'll be some time before he starts to look like a real man, I'm telling you!_  
 _Maybe I'll catch up to Hungary age-wise someday. I mean, for humans that's totally impossible, but for us it's all up to the environment we grow up in as well as our development as a nation. If I become greater than Hungary, I'll be older someday. Same for me compared to Holy Rome._  
 _Did I say 'if'? Scratch that, it's more like '_ _when_ _I become greater than Hungary', especially now that he looks about as sissy as Austria, were it not for his rougher personality._

"So you're Prussia," Hungary mumbled as he sat in front of said country, staring at the white-haired boy with narrowed eyes, clearly confused. "But you represent the Teutonic Knights who are trying to conquer Prussia."  
"Pretty much," Prussia said with a small nod.  
"Weird," Hungary then just sighed, getting to his feet again and stretching. "But then again, you were always a weirdo, so what could I expect?" When he was done stretching, he grimaced for a moment, gently rubbing his chest for a heartbeat as though rubbing a sore spot.  
Surprised by this motion, Prussia cocked his head to one side. "You okay there?" But Hungary just nodded and snapped that he was fine, a clear sign that Prussia should just back off and not bother him about it. He didn't want to be punched by the kingdom, knowing that would hurt way longer than if a human did it. And Hungary was strong, if he remembered right, which he probably did. Then he just shrugged and got up as well. "But can you help me train for battle?" he asked the older country then. "That's what I came here for: to get some experience in fighting other immortals."  
Hungary just looked at him with a nasty gleam in his green eyes and huffed. "Oh, so you didn't come because you wanted to see an old friend again?" he demanded, sounding offended. "Just because little Prussia needs to become _stronger_! Well, piss off! I'm not in the mood for fighting now, go bother one of my people about it instead." He then stomped off, leaving Prussia to stare after him in confusion and shock.  
"Well, I'm sorry, cranky," he muttered when Hungary disappeared from sight. He sat down, flopped onto his back and stared at the blue sky instead. "Nice that you still speak German, though..." He couldn't imagine what it would be like to not be able to communicate to Hungary. He valued their friendship and rivalry, even if Hungary thought otherwise, and it was nice to know that things hadn't changed much between them, though the older country was clearly not having a good day.  
Staring up at the clouds like that, he thought back to his bird, which had died two years ago. It had turned out to be a little blackbird, and though he tried to release it once it was old enough, it kept coming back to him. It probably though of Prussia as its father in the end -or more likely it mother, but he refused to think that for the sake of his self esteem. But one day it had flown off and not returned, and he figured it must've either sought freedom after all or died.

Hungary's king was hospitable enough toward Prussia (after Hungary convinced him the boy was his friend and not a Teutonic spy -the Teutonic Knights still weren't liked around these parts after the whole Burzenland mess) and gave him a room to sleep in: Hungary's room. They shared that room for as long as Prussia was there, and Hungary only grudgingly agreed. "But if he's your friend," the king had told his country, "you should be okay with that. We don't have any spare rooms around here, after all." And that's how they ended up staring at each other the first night, talking a bit about the things they'd experienced over the years. The had decades to catch up on together.  
And eventually, Hungary grinned, his bad mood of earlier that day gone, and said they could fight now. "Hand-to-hand combat," he said. "Come on, the first to have his back on the ground loses!"  
Prussia didn't even answer, just tackled him and tried to push him to the ground. They tugged on each other and tried to push each other off their feet. Hungary eventually laughed, his eyes twinkling with joy again. "You've grown stronger than I thought, little boy!" he taunted Prussia, trying to kick his feet from under him. But Prussia noticed in time and jumped, avoiding it, then pulled a similar stunt against Hungary. But he obviously saw that coming, and managed to beat it off just as easily. Then Hungary tried to put his greater length to good use, leaning over Prussia with his full weight. He nearly managed to push Prussia to the ground like that, but he decided to use a trick that was perhaps a little dirtier than anything Hungary had used. _But I found your weak spot, and that's my secret weapon!_ Remembering how the older boy's chest had been sore earlier that day, he pushed him off himself with his hands on the boy's chest. Judging by a hiss from Hungary, that hurt quite a bit, and the kingdom stepped back quickly before launching himself onto Prussia, tackling him to the ground. Prussia didn't even fight back, only stared, frozen and wide-eyed, up at Hungary, who sat triumphantically on his midriff.  
That chest didn't feel right.  
But he couldn't place what it was, so when he pushed the laughing Hungary off him, he put his hands on the other's chest again to do so, just to give it another check.  
 _Holy-!_  
 _Now_ he recognised what it was. _Why the hell does Hungary have breasts?!_ Tiny, yes, but he'd definitely felt two bumps on Hungary's chest, and they were _not_ muscles. His stomach did a somersault as he realised what this meant, but his mind denied it more than he'd ever denied anything. Hungary wasn't a girl! Hungary was a tough, battle-loving boy like him. He'd _won_ this battle from Prussia, for Heaven's sake! _And I don't lose to little girls._ He took a deep breath and calmed himself again. He must've imagined it. Twice. Yeah, he'd imagined it twice. Hungary was a guy, obviously. Always had been, so why would that change now?  
Hungary just laughed. "Why look so flustered, Gil? Didn't the _great_ Prussia think he could be beaten?" The kingdom's laughter sent a chill down Prussia's spine. That girlish laughter of his... _hers_. He stared at Hungary wide-eyed, his cheeks feeling hot with embarassment as he realised that, no matter what he would say to himself, the facts didn't change. And right now, the facts were almost all pointing to the conclusion that Hungary was a girl.

"I hope you can keep still when you sleep," Hungary said eventually when she calmed again and gave her back a good stretch. "There isn't that much space on the bed. Thank God you're a scrawny little kid, really."  
"I'm not scrawny!" Prussia protested, forgetting for a moment how awkward he felt around right now. Did she even realise herself that she was a girl? Probably. _I mean, how can anyone overlook_ _ **that?**_ But when they'd first met, she'd said the same things about girls as he had: that they were generally weak, couldn't fight as well as men could, and she too had been puzzled as to how female countries could ever protect their people properly. _Well, she's a strong girl,_ he mused to himself. _One of the rare ones._ Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Hungary _was_ a boy. _I can always ask... NO!_ If he did that, Hungary would be offended for sure, whether the kingdom was a boy or a girl, and he didn't want to fight again now, not for real this time.  
Hungary just rolled her eyes. "Well, you're shorter than me at least, and my chest and shoulders are wider than yours: you're _scrawnier than me._ Happy now?"  
Prussia huffed. "Fine then." _Of course your chest is wider,_ _ **girl**_ _. Give it a year -I guess- and you'll have full-fledged boobs, for God's sake._ Did she know? Did she? He began to doubt it by now, after that comment.  
"Well, as I said," Hungary then continued. "So long as you can keep still as we sleep. I don't want you kicking me. Shame there's no spare bed, I'd rather sleep alone."  
"As would I," Prussia answered, getting more annoyed with his friend with the minute now. He turned to look at her then, ans his muscles went tense in a heartbeat. _She was undressing._ Right in front of him. _She must be totally oblivious of her own_ _ **gender**_ _, of all things!_ A girl would never take off her clothes in front of a boy like that. Flustered, he looked away a heartbeat after having turned to look at her. But he'd seen enough. _Hungary's a girl. Confirmed now._ He clenched his jaws, and he felt like there was a fire under his skin. He really wanted to turn around and tell Hungary that she was a girl, that he couldn't stay here because of that and leave, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to stay on Hungary's good side, and mentioning to her that she was a girl would definitely be the worst thing to do if he wanted to stay friends. And he did, he really did, even if that meant he had to go against his own principles.  
"Why did you turn the other way, you silly?" came Hungary's voice, and he nearly jumped in shock. She laughed again softly, giggled almost, and lay down on her wooden bed. "Come and sleep, Prussia. We have to go out hunting in the morning, remember?"  
Right. They had promised to go hunting for ducks and rabbits for tomorrow's supper. He closed his eyes and stifled a sigh. _I can't do this. To Hell with it all, I can't do this!_ He turned around then, opened his mouth-  
-and closed it again. No, he _could_ do this. He could do anything, for Heaven's sake! He could still be friends with Hungary _and_ tell her the truth about her gender someday - _someday_. Not today. Today would ruin the friendship he so valued. He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, surprised by how soft it was. "What kind of straw is this?" he asked, perplexed, as he plucked at a strand of said straw that was tucked neatly under the woolen sheet covering it.  
"It's straw and goose feathers," Hungary mumbled, already having her eyes closed. Then she turned around, turning her back on Prussia to sleep -thank God she did. "That's why it's soft. The pillows are also stuffed with feathers. Enjoy." She fell silent then, probably slowly drifting off already, but Prussia couldn't bring himself to even lie down. This was too awkward, too _against the rules_ at that. He couldn't sleep next to a girl! _I can,_ he told himself. _I did it before. N-not in a bed, given, but Hungary and I have slept side-by-side before._ Telling himself this, he took another deep breath and lay down. Yeah. He could totally do this.

After a little while, Hungary began snoring, and amused, Prussia could finally calm down then. At least with her snoring like that, he could pretend he lay next to a boy with ease. At this, he closed his eyes, and finally drifted off into sleep as well.

* * *

The next morning, when Hungary had taken him out hunting as they had promised each other, Prussia had to drag himself after her. He had eventually fallen asleep, yes, but his peace of mind hadn't lasted long enough to keep him like that throughout the night. He'd woken up and forced himself to sleep again several times, and the third time that happened, he just lay down on the floor instead and slept there. From that point onward, he had slept peacefully, knowing he wasn't breaking any rules anymore, but now his back and shoulders were stiff, and he hadn't slept for longer than three hours like that before he was woken by Hungary to have breakfast and leave already. Hungary was both amused and annoyed with him for this.  
"Look, it's not my fault that you slept on the floor," she told him after a little while. Prussia stared at her and raised an eyebrow at this, but decided not to comment on that. "We have mouths to feed, Prussia. You'd damn well better snap to it and hunt."  
Prussia sighed and followed her. "Easier said than done," he muttered under his breath. But then he shook his head and ran forward a bit so that he walked beside her. "By the way," he asked then, trying not to think about what he'd found out the night before. "Why are we all children? All countries, I mean."  
"Because we're all young, you dummy," she answered, grinning. "I thought you were supposed to be smart, but if you're asking this question-"  
"That's exactly _why_ I'm asking this question," Prussia interrupted her with a brief glare. "You're just too stupid to question this whole thing. Not my problem, I'm the one thinking this through."  
"And why were you questioning it, oh _great_ Prussia?" Hungary huffed, looking angry for just a moment.  
"We're countries," Prussia began explaining then.  
"No shit, smartass."  
"Don't interrupt me. We're countries, and we're supposed to protect our people. I'm the best warrior in all of Prussia and the rest of the Teutonic Order, but I still failed to protect them during the Prussian Uprising. Aren't we supposed to be at our strongest to be able to defend the people of this world? Then why the hell are we all children? Children can't possibly be strong enough, obviously."  
Hungary was silent for a moment, frowning for a moment, a confused shimmer in her eyes which Prussia took in triumphantically. _She really hasn't thought about this yet! I'm so damn smart, I'm awesome!_ "I don't know," Hungary admitted eventually. "But we _do_ grow up eventually. It's just that most of us in this part of the world are only a few centuries old, or..." She glanced at Prussia then. "Some aren't even a century old yet. Greece is the oldest around these parts, and to the west, there's Ireland. I've never seen him, but I've been told he looks like an adolescent. 17 years old, give or take. I don't know if that's true, but that would make him older than Greece -I'd give him 15 years or so." Her green eyes began shining then, and she stared at Prussia wide-eyed for a moment. "And I heard that, far to the east, there are people like us that are much older than that! Older even than Rome had been, and your old man as well."  
"Older than the Ancients?" Prussia mused to himself. Well, he supposed it was possible, of course. There had once been a time when the Ancients had been the youngsters like they were now. And who came before them? And just like that, he and Hungary would one day be Ancients as well. Someday they would be nothing but history, just like their ancestors were now. _But I want to live for a while yet,_ he thought then. _I want to live, grow stronger, gain power. One day I could rule the world!_  
"But say," Hungary then piped up, grinning at him in joy. "You're the son of Germania, so that mean you're related to my sissy little neighbour in the west, right?"  
"You mean Austria?" Prussia snickered. "Yep. Unfortunately."  
"Then could you tell him to stop getting beaten up by me all the time? It's getting boring how weak the boy is." She laughed then, sending warmth through Prussia as he listened to it. "Maybe he could be your apprentice! Then again, I beat you yesterday, too."  
Prussia then watched as she signaled to him to be quiet, snuck away and drew her bow silently. _Well, Austria_ , he thought with silent laughter, _even girls call you sissy. That's just sad._ Hungary then shot an arrow, ran after it and came back a few seconds later, triumphantically waving with a dead, bleeding duck.

 _Well,_ he thought to himself then, watching her with amusement. _She may be a girl, but she's still insane. By far the craziest chick I'll ever meet._

* * *

 **Well, that was it already, sorry for that. I've just been busy preparing for my tests, and I didn't know what else to add to this chapter.**

 **And yes, the bird was the first Gilbird! I hardly think animals can live hundreds of years like the nations can, but just like Germany has dogs, Prussia usually keeps birds as pets (imagine what that would be like -Germany's dogs and Prussia's birds living under the same roof. I can sense some brotherly fights breaking out over what those animals do to each other XD)**

 **Ah well... I don't know what else to say. Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it! Have a nice day~**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hiya! Sorry that I've been gone so long!**

 **It's just... I couldn't start writing this chapter until earlier this week, and in the later half of this week, I was busy _again_. Seriously, school and life combined have never kept me so busy before. Two weeks ago, I didn't even have the chance to _touch_ my laptop until saturday, let alone start it and write.**

 **So, sorry that you've all had to wait for this one. At least it's longer than the previous two were, and eh... Well, they may be only minor characters in this, but I'm introducing new characters in this chapter, and I hope in a humorous way.**

 **Thank you to Crossfire, Awesomely Random, walmarth, crystallized cherry, Abc and Silver-'-Doe290s for the reviews, favourites and follows! AND the patience!**

 **Massive, _massive_ time skip, but I guess you guys could already guess it was coming someday... what with this fic starting in 1211 and ending in 1871 (laughs)**

* * *

Once he'd been able to set aside the awkwardness of being around Hungary now that he knew the kingdom was a girl, Prussia soon found he'd come there just in time. He knew the Teutonic Order was seeking crusaders from other countries to strengthen their ranks after having lost so many people in the Prussian Uprising, but he hadn't been aware that they'd also come to Hungary until he met with a small group of Teutonic messengers, there to request Hungarian help for their crusade. Together with Hungary herself, he personally led them back to Hungary's king and spoke as well as they voiced their request. His first international business as a country, and it went well. After this success, he decided to leave Hungary again, little less than two months after he'd arrived there, and traveled around Europe with his Knights to gather more crusaders. They got people from Hungary, the Holy Roman Empire and Bohemia, all in preparation to conquer Samland, the next part of Prussia to pacify now that the west of the land was under their control. It was both a blessing and a curse that it was as thickly-populated as it was, for the Order feared they would face another great battle. But, on the other hand, if they managed to baptise these people and conquer the region, they would have another large part of land and population on their side -the latter only if plenty of Prussians were willing to be baptised, of course.  
Prussia himself wasn't too happy about some of the people the Holy Roman Empire sent. There were Saxons, Moravians and -the bad part- Austrians. Meaning he was forced to meet with Austria. But his cousin didn't stay long, and he had little to do with him in the end, except that he was forced to show him the same hospitality Austria had done him so long ago. But in the end, he got through that just fine, without bashing in the duchy's face or doing something similar.  
In the end, an army of 60,000 men was gathered for the campaign, which began in January 1255 and ended that same month in a succes for the Order. As per usual, the Prussians that let themselves be baptised were treated well enough. The others... not so much. But Prussia forced himself not to think about that too much: this was his job. To spread christianity in this region and conquer it in the name of the Teutonic Order, so it could be populated with his own people. In that same year, in the newly conquered land, the Teutonic Order founded Königsberg, a strong settlement for the Order. After Samland came Natangia, and slowly, all of Prussia came to be under Teutonic control.  
But the Prussians started their next Uprising soon after, in 1260. Strong as the Teutonic army was, it wasn't prepared for another major uprising such as this, as the Teutonic Order was still mainly focused on other lands, the Holy Land in particular. So this time, the Order didn't stand quite as strong against the Prussians. Most of the Order's Prussian castles were destroyed and the land was continually being raided for year after year. Prussia was in so much pain so often, he sometimes lost hope and, in his pain and desperation, wondered if this meant the conquest had failed and he would die. But by the end of the decade, things were starting to look up for them again. It wasn't until 14 years had passed that they managed to beat the Prussians in 1274. As a result, the surviving native Prussians living in Teutonic territory lost most of the rights they had, and the majority fled to pagan Baltic territories such as the Duchy of Lithuania. Prussia didn't care anymore what happened to them. The 14 years of suffering they had delivered him were reason enough to do this, he thought. Though sometimes, when he saw the people who had once been tribe-chiefs serving as vassals, he did feel a tiny stab of guilt. He may not be connected to them on any physical level, fate had linked him to these people in some way. If it weren't for the death of their Prussia, their immortal representative, he would've never existed. _But that only goes to show,_ he told himself then, _that the Teutonic Order State cannot exist without the fall of the native Prussians. And we're not the pagans, they are. We serve the church in this crusade. Whatever happens here, it's all God's will._ On the rare moments that he struggled with his conscience, this thought always eased his mind again. If it wasn't supposed to happen, it wouldn't be happening.  
Many more campaigns followed, and by the end of the 13th century, the Prussian Crusade was finally finished, and the monastic state of the Teutonic Order was finally the sole ruler of the land.

* * *

 _3 June 1360_

 _Trading is awesome! By everything sacred, it's almost as awesome as I am! Since some of my major cities have joined the trading confederation of the Hanseatic League, I've just felt so damn good! I mean, sure, there were times when the economy was doing less well... bad harvests and all that, when we have little to trade. But during the good years (meaning most of the time, obviously) I've just felt so... well... it's hard to describe. But it's like I never get tired -I always have energy to just keep going, doing what a country's supposed to do. Like I can take on the world as well! For real this time, I mean, not like my un-awesome boasting back during the Crusade._  
 _Anyway, as I was saying, trading is the greatest thing ever, right next to gaining new land and new people. Taking over the city of Danzig back in 1308? Best. Decision. Ever. That place is like Merchant Paradise. As is my capital, Königsberg. Aside from those, Thorn and Elbing are doing a good job, too. We're trading with cities in the Kingdom of Sweden, the Kingdom of Poland, the Kingdom of Norway, the Kingdom of England... well, and a lot of free cities, principalities, duchies, you name it. But the kingdoms sound better when you list them! (I want to become a kingdom someday so bad!)_  
 _Best part? I'm on a ship. I'M SERIOUSLY ON A SHIP TO TRAVEL AND TRADE!_ _I never thought I'd be this excited about it, but it's just so cool! Not to mention that, with a bit of luck, I'll get to meet some of the countries listed above as we trade with them!_  
 _I'll spread word about how great my land is! Maybe I'll get more people like that... or else more trading partners!_

Prussia read the journal entry of four weeks before once again. He'd passed Denmark, Sweden and Norway, and though he'd been on land there, he hadn't met the kingdoms yet. Now he was headed to Harlingen, a Dutch city in Frisia. And, as it was one of the Netherland's ports, he expected the country, who he'd been told was another cousin of his, to be there. And if not, their next destination before heading back to Danzig would be London. If he couldn't find England in his capital, he didn't know what else to do to meet others.  
Putting down his journal again, he ran up to the upper deck and to one of the merchants there. "Well?" he demanded, his red eyes twinkling with excitement. "Are we nearly there yet?"  
The human chuckled. Over the weeks that Prussia had been on the ship with them, these people had come to accept him and, in some cases, had grown rather fond of the energetic boy, despite his quirks. "We've passed the Dutch islands," he told the young country calmly. "So we'll arrive in Harlingen any minute now." He then nodded to the front of the ship. "You can see the land already."  
Immediately, Prussia whipped his head around and stared in wonder. But his wonder soon turned to confusion. "Where're the hills?" he mumbled, raising an eyebrow at the odd land he was looking at. "I know it's the coast we're looking at, but even coasts have hills... Or at least, you can see the hills from the coastline." He then turned to look up at the merchant again. "Are we that far away yet? But I can make out outlines of buildings, so we must be close..."  
The merchant just laughed and patted him on the head, which Prussia ducked away from indignantly. "It's called the Netherlands for a reason, boy," the human explained. "Most of the land, from what I've seen and heard in stories, is completely flat. You know of the different Counties in this land? Holland, Sealand, Frisia -those are the major ones. They're flat as the surface of a lake when there's no wind." He stared at the land, coming rapidly closer, for a moment in silence. Then he continued. "Because the land is so low and flat, there's a lot of trouble with floods, I heard. But these people have taught themselves how to battle the water. They build their own hills to build houses on, they create hills around the river banks to hold back the water in case of a flood. Rather inventive, isn't it?"  
Prussia nodded slowly and stared again, wide-eyed, at the land that was his cousin's. He had always thought nature was the one thing you couldn't win a battle from. If there was a bad harvest, there'd be a famine, nothing you can do about it. An outbreak of sickness would kill hundreds and there was nothing to do about it. And fires raging through villages, floods wrecking farmlands... people and countries alike were pretty much powerless against it. But his cousin, his family, fought nature and won! "I want him to teach me how to do it..." he mumbled to himself.  
"We'll see about that, Prussia..."

He was in Harlingen barely an hour later. After his people had been able to convince the Frisians that he was okay, he was told Netherlands was indeed there at the moment. But he was also told not to expect too much, which got him confused. But he understood just as soon as he saw his cousin -his little, _toddler_ cousin. Somehow he'd expected he would be the youngster once again. So far, all the countries he'd met had been older than him, especially his family members, but Netherlands was no older than a toddler. The little boy hid behind one of his people, staring up at Prussia with wide, blue-ish green eyes. Gripping the thigh of the human he was hiding behind in his tiny fists, the tiny country mumbled something. Prussia was surprised that he didn't understand it: German and most of the dialects in the low lands were similar. But maybe it was Frisian that he spoke, and Prussia had already figured out by walking through this city that it was a language of its own. Then again, maybe it _was_ Dutch, but he just couldn't be sure. " _Wie is dat?_ " little Netherlands asked two of his Frisian merchants who were beside him then. " _Hij is eng..._ " The Dutchmen said something in response, which Prussia also didn't follow. But Netherlands had sounded really nervous as he'd spoken, and his eyes were still focused on Prussia, wide and curious and with a hint of fear.  
 _Aw,_ Prussia couldn't help thinking, a smile forming on his lips. _He's shy... that's so cute._ This wasn't the nature-battling cousin he'd envisioned, but on the other hand, it wasn't weird to imagine Netherlands being young. The Dutch Counties weren't unified yet, though they started working together more and more the past decades. There were probably still personifications of Counties alive, while the personification of the to-be unified version of them was already born. But, as there was no unification yet, he just hadn't grown up yet. To come across less intimidating to the tiny child, Prussia got down on one knee in front of him. "Hello there, Netherlands," he said in a soothing, calm voice. "How are you? I'm Prussia, by the way, I'm your cousin."  
Netherlands just blinked at him, confused, then stared up at the person whose leg he was clinging to. " _Wat zei hij?_ " he asked softly.  
The human just smiled and patted the child on the head. " _Hij zegt dat hij jouw neef is,_ " he said, and Prussia guessed he was translating the Prussian's words to the younger country.  
"I'm here to trade with you," Prussia then said with a smile, happy to finally be in the role of the older family member for once. "Look." He took the satchel he had hooked to his belt and opened it, pouring some grain onto his hand and holding it out to the Netherlands. "We can sell you grain in return for your products. We've got loads of the stuff where I come from."  
Upon seeing this product, Netherland's eyes lit up, and Prussia guessed it was because this was something he did know and understand. Without saying anything, the child stuck his hand into one of his pockets and grabbed a handfull of copper coins. He then inspected the grain on his cousin's hand intently, looked back to his money and then held out two of the copper coins to Prussia, already sticking the rest back in his pocket. Surprised, Prussia held out his other hand and let the little boy drop his money onto it, then wordlessly handed the grain to Netherlands, who had already cupped his two small hands to take it from Prussia. The older country was stunned as Netherlands smiled when he got the stuff from him, quickly waggled of to a warehouse on his short legs, disappeared in it then reappeared some minutes later, holding three cheesewedges in his arms as he ran back to Prussia. He pushed them into his cousin's arms without a word, then held up his right hand, looking at the older boy expectantly. Stunned, Prussia just grabbed a handful of coins and held it up. His other arm full of cheese, he couldn't very well pick out the coins himself, so he trusted Netherlands would make it a fair trade. And honestly, he had no idea how much this was worth, and he didn't want to offend the little trader by giving him too little for it. Netherlands inspected the coins for a moment, then grabbed two bronze ones, inspected them more closely and then put them in his pocket, seemingly satisfied. " _Dat is een goede deal,_ " he said happily. " _Heb je meer?_ " Now this last sentence was one Prussia did understand. It sounded similar to _hast du mehr?_ and, though it was a bit informal to his liking, he nodded and smiled. "Sure we've got more of it. Boatsfull of the stuff. But we have to sell some to England as well later this month, so we can't sell you all we have."  
" _Engeland?_ " Netherlands then questioned, tipping his head to one side. Prussia nodded, glad they could finally begin to understand each other a bit. Maybe their languages were similar enough that they could learn to speak to each other before Prussia had to leave again. " _Engeland verkoopt wol. Dat is goed spul, maar duur. Betaal hem niet te veel._ " Netherlands kept prattling on for a moment longer, and Prussia couldn't follow half of it anymore. He looked up at the Dutch merchants who were still there and were looking at their little country with amused gazes. Prussia's questioning eyes were enough for them to understand that he needed help understanding the toddler now. "He's giving you advice on trading with England," one of them explained to him as Netherlands just kept on talking now. "He, er... he gets really enthusiastic about trading sometimes. Agriculture as well. And building dykes... Let's just say he's a hard worker for his age."  
"And a weirdo," Prussia couldn't help but add, and though they seemed a bit offended, the Dutchmen chuckled at this.  
"To my knowledge," one of Prussia's own merchants then said, "you're all _unique_ individuals, you immortals."  
For this, Prussia shot him a brief -but not exactly an angry- glare, then turned around and left for the ship again to write about his 'unique' little cousin a bit.

* * *

Two weeks later, the people had traded all there was to trade now, and Prussia had traveled around a bit, not going too far from Harlingen. His people had been right: seriously everything was either flat, or man-made hills. And Netherlands was still weird for his age.  
Then they left again, and it wasn't too long until they reached their next and last stop before they would head back to Prussia. London, like Harlingen and surrounding areas, was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It wasn't as easy to find the personification of England as it had been to find Netherlands: he couldn't very well communicate with these people, even less than with the Dutchmen of whom the majority he'd met had actually spoken German rather well, and whenever he found someone he could talk to, they either didn't know England or didn't want to give him directions. And then he realised England was at war with France at the moment, and had been for 23 years already. Maybe he was over in France at the moment. At this thought, Prussia felt very disappointed for a moment. He wanted to meet as many other countries as he could, and since he had to cross the sea to get to England, this may be his only chance in decades to meet him.  
But eventually he found the boy. He was the oldest by body that Prussia had ever met so far, roughly 13 or 14. As of yet het towered over Prussia, still no older than 11. His hair was a pale blond and very messy, his eyes greener even than Hungary's, resembling emeralds more than anything. Those eyes of his might've actually looked nice, had it not been for the constant, condescending look in them when he looked at Prussia.  
The Prussian had just walked up to him and introduced himself, and already did England have a look that simply screamed 'not impressed'. That was the one look Prussia hated most in this world. "So you're Prussia, then?" England replied in heavily accented French -it was the only language they both spoke, though England clearly made no effort to pronounce it right. The kingdom huffed. "Little pipsqueak you are, for someone your age. And by the Lord, what is wrong with you?"  
"I'm a pale-skinned, white-haired, red-eyed country," Prussia grumbled, knowing instantly what he was reffering to. "Got problems with that?"  
"Yeah," England replied, narrowing his eyes. "You're the kind of person we'd burn at a stake. Son of the Devil, clearly."  
Tense now, Prussia tried to sound calm as he corrected him, "Son of _Germania_ , more like it. Someone as great as me couldn't possibly be descended from anyone else, _clearly_."  
This seemed to pique England's interest, and he finally sounded a little less condescending and mean when he echoed, "Germania? Seriously?" Prussia nodded, and something flashed in England's eyes at this. "Alright, then," he sighed, shrugging. "No pyre for you. I like your dad. Shame he's gone, really." He then turned around and walked away, and he actually gestured to Prussia to follow him. The younger child was surprised for a moment, but then dashed after him to catch up.  
"Did you know my father?" he asked, astonished at England's reaction to Germania's name. "What was he like? I-I mean, why do you like him so much?" He hoped that last part could pass for an honest mistake in his French. Like he'd let a country like this know that he'd never even met his own father!  
England shrugged again. "It's hard not to like the man who killed my own father. But that's not important. What brings you to my little secluded island?" He then looked over his shoulder at Prussia, his eyes narrowed, some of his earlier, less likeable attitude shining in them. "Or rather, why did you come here and bother me when I'm in the middle of a war?"  
Prussia rolled his eyes. "Because trading goes on, whether there's war or not," he answered with a sigh. He didn't really like England. Scratch that, he disliked the guy a lot already. But he was still another country, and that in itself was interesting enough for Prussia to stay here. And besides, if England made no effort to be polite, at least he wouldn't have to, either. He could be his awesome self here. "You don't seem to be so busy, anyway, so what's the big deal?"  
England then sighed and muttered something in his own language, which Prussia couldn't follow. They then walked a long way, mostly silent, and Prussia was beginning to wonder whether he was supposed to keep following him or not. Eventually they entered what looked like castle grounds, though the actual castle was a little way off still: Prussia could see it to his left, but they turned right then, to a smaller, wooden building. When they came closer, the young country recognised the scent of it sooner than anything else: stables.  
"Why are you taking me to a bunch of stables?" he asked, grimacing at the filthy smell.  
"Who said you had to keep following me like a little puppy?" England retorted without looking at him, and Prussia shut up again.  
Once inside, England headed for a dark brown horse, got it out of its stable and climbed onto its back. Before he did anything else, he looked down at Prussia. "I hope you can find your way back on your own, kid. Wouldn't want you to miss your ship, now would we? Then you'd have to _stay_ here." He grimaced at the last part, and without a word more, he galloped off on his horse, leaving Prussia to stare after him.

"Damn," he muttered to himself. "They were right: all countries really _are_ weirdos. Except me, obviously. And I suppose Holy Rome can pass for normal as well." But Austria was a sissy prick with bad eyesight, Hungary was a girl -who thought she was a boy, no less-, Netherlands was a trading-obsessed toddler and England was just _mean_.  
"You'll have to excuse his behaviour," a new voice suddenly said, and Prussia looked around, confused. He knew neither who had spoken or what the words meant, as this hadn't been French. Then, suddenly, some straw fell onto his head, and brushing it off with an irritated sigh, he looked up. An even older teenager, 15 years old perhaps, lay on top of a high haystack and was looking down at the young country. For a moment, this boy looked as confused as Prussia was, then mumbled something, and Prussia couldn't tell wether it was to him, or to himself. "He spoke French to you... so you probably don't know any English, eh? Too bad I don't speak French." _What in the name of the Lord is he mumbling about?_ "Latin?" the teenager tried in said language. "Do you know Latin?"  
"I-I can read it," Prussia answered, not really sure how to react. "And write it. Speaking is difficult." Right. If only he could speak in an easier language than _Latin_ , of all things, maybe he could've come across as being as awesome as he was. Now he probably looked like a dumb little kid to this person.  
But the teenager shrugged. "Tell me about it. What I said was: don't mind England. He's been cranky ever since the war against France started. Probably because Scotland is fighting on France's side -Scotland is our brother, after all."  
" _Our_ brother?" Prussia echoed, wondering if he'd heard that right. He had assumed this boy was a human -a stableboy. A servant. But apparently-  
"I'm Wales, dimwit," the older country then said, sounding offended. Then he huffed and looked away for a moment. "Though, frankly, I'm glad you didn't see the resemblance between me and my little damn brother so easily."  
 _How could I?_ Prussia thought, but he decided not to say these words aloud. _He was properly dressed, clean, clearly well taken care of. You're covered in mud and straw and smell like horse._ But now that he looked a little more closely, he did see the obvious resemblance -they had very similar faces and Wales had the same striking green eyes, but a little darker. His hair was a darker blonde as well -on the other hand, maybe that was all mud. All in all, he sure looked like he hadn't washed in months. Prussia had never seen another nation looking as much like a peasant as this one did -it wasn't so weird that he'd taken him for a human at first.  
"Honestly, I'm glad that Scotland is fighting back like this," Wales then huffed, laying down on his back again, though he kept talking to Prussia now. "Did you know England tried to conquer Scotland not too long ago?" Prussia nodded: he'd heard about that, though he wasn't that interested in what happened on the other side of a sea like this. "Yeah. Damn prick thinks he can conquer all of us as 'easily' as he did me. Well, not Scotland, I can tell you! I put up a heck of a fight already, but Scotland is even stronger than me. England will never win." Right, so he adored his brother. _Really useful information, thanks,_ Prussia thought, rolling his eyes at this. He decided to interrupt the older country before he could worship his brother any more.  
"So... why're you here, actually?" he just asked, lacking an idea for a better question now. Well, anything to not have to listen to Wales's rambling about Scotland. "There's a castle close by, why would you stay in a _stable_?" _For such a long period of time that you begin to smell_ _ **worse**_ _than its inhabitants_ , he added in silence.  
"Because why the hell would I want to stay in the same building as England?" Wales just muttered. "I hate his bloody guts, that dominating bastard. Thinks he rules over the family. Well, given, he's got me cornered, but though he's claimed Ireland as well, Ireland is still pretty much independent, and I already told you about Scotland." The teenager then got up again and jumped down, showering Prussia with sand and straw. "You must know what that's like. Having others rule over you, I mean." _Thanks. Really._ "It sucks. And your siblings? Are they heartless bastards like mine?"  
"Nah, they're alright," Prussia answered, taking a step back, trying not to cough. Maybe some of the 'mud' on Wales wasn't mud, after all...  
"Whatever," Wales then said, stretching his back a bit. "When are you leaving again? I mean, I'd like to say you could stay here for a bit, but I have not a scrap of authority here. The only place I can offer you is that haystack, and frankly, that's mine."  
"Not as long as I'd planned at first," Prussia replied coldly. Wales was kinder than England, but not even close to politer than him. "I wanted to get to know England a little-" Wales huffed at this, and Prussia quickly lied: "-and you, but I'm seriously begin to reconsider that." He huffed and raised his chin arrogantly. "I have better things to do than to waste my time on a cranky, condescending bastard and a walking pile of mud and straw and... I don't even want to know..."  
"Like _you're_ so nice to look at!" Wales retorted angrily, getting more pissed with the second now. "Get out, then! Run back to your ship and sail off to your fucking land _and don't return_. I have better things to do than to waste my time on an arrogant, bad-mannered little prick like you! _And I don't even have a job._ " Prussia wanted to say something else, but he was yanked up by the teenager, who grabbed him by the collar of his tunic. He was then dragged out of the stable, and Wales then flung him away like he weighed nothing. Prussia landed squarely in a puddle of mud, and he heard Wales laugh at this. "Dirt suits you, pipsqueak! At least you finally have a little colour on your face!" Prussia scrambled to his feet again, fighting the urge to attack the older country in sheer anger. He had no weapons on him now, and seeing as Wales was a lot taller than him, he wouldn't stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat.

Then he left, and he stayed near his ship from then on. To his relief, he didn't run into England or Wales again before he could finally leave again. He didn't want to waste too much space in his journal, so this time, he just made a note under the report of when he'd just left his land.

 _Trading_ _ **is**_ _great. Other countries are not. Note to self: don't visit countries who are at war, and don't talk to annexed territories of other countries. They are so un-awesome._

* * *

 **So the start was more historical than the rest, but ah well.. I didn't want this chapter to take even longer than this.**

 **Before the history buffs here start telling me I missed some important things about the 14th century: I'm aware. Plague and such will be adressed as well -I suppose in the next chapter already. I did my homework! (Though I have no correction sheet to check my homework, sorry for any mistakes, like always!)**

 **Oh, and I nearly forgot, translations for what little Neddie said:  
"Wie is dat? Hij is eng..." - "Who is that? He's creepy..."  
"Wat zegt hij?" - "What is he saying?"  
"Hij zegt dat hij jouw neef is." - "He says he's your cousin."  
"Dat is een goede deal. Heb je meer?" - "That's a good deal. Do you have any more of it?"  
"Engeland? Engeland verkoopt wol. Dat is goed spul, maar duur. Betaal hem niet te veel." - "England? He sells wool. Good stuff, but expensive. Be careful not to pay him too much for it."**

 **Anyway, the next chapter should be on time, but the week after that, I'm on student exchange in Germany, so... might be on time, might not.**

 **Thanks all for reading, and I hope you liked it!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi there! Chapter 9 is done!**

 **KimikoElenda, Aquaria Moon, Crossfire, Moonshine-Aqua, CulinaryChef and Awesomely Random, thanks for the favourites, follows and reviews!**

 **Aquaria Moon, misschien had je het al gemerkt aan het feit dat ik Nederlands schreef, maar ik ben zelf ook Nederlands! Natuurlijk kon ik ons landje niet vergeten, hij heeft meer aandacht nodig...**

 **Crossfire... whoops! As I said, I don't have a correction sheet for the 'homework' I do for my chapters... ehehe... oh well. It's not a bad mistake. Thanks for telling me, though! (And I miss the British Isles Bros too... I'm actually working on a sorta-request sometimes. Ireland gets a girlfriend... and the brothers make it hell, as per usual~!)**

 **Well, this chapter contains some of the info on the 14th century that I missed in the previous chapter. I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _19 November 1360_

 _The merchants I traveled with knew I was 'safe', so to say, but some of my people here don't. Since the Black Death spread to these parts some years ago, they've blamed it on many people. Other religions, mainly Jews, get the blame, but also people with skin problems. Well, my skin is a problem if I ever saw one. At least, other people make it so by treating me so differently from all the others. It's not quite that they attack me on sight (well, most don't) but they certainly avoid me and do send me these scary, threatening glances, like they're just waiting for the right moment to grab me and... and... 'dispose' of me like they do with the others they fear._  
 _So I'm confined to my house now, most of the time. I try not to go out unless I need to get food or water. I'm sure that they'll turn around again soon. It's hard to resist my awesome charms for long! They will love me_ _again._  
 _Who the heck am I kidding, 'again'? They never did. But they will. I swear to God they will._

Prussia sighed, put his book away and pulled his knees up to his chest. As good as he had felt when he'd been traveling and trading, he felt miserable now. He went out mostly at night and, as such, hadn't properly seen the sun in a week by now. He hadn't eaten all day by now, and he was feeling weak with hunger. Tonight he would have to go out again, which also meant he either had to hunt in complete darkness (which was practically impossible) or steal vegetables or bread from his people, and he liked the idea of neither.  
He'd gotten out of England just in time, too. Another wave of Black Death seemed to be spreading there, and it had hit bad. Maybe that was also one of the reasons England and Wales had been so on-edge when he'd been there: they were just feeling awful, with the combination of the war against France and Scotland and the Black Death coming back for another round of killing among their shared people. Either way, if he'd been there any later than he had been now, the people really _would_ have done something awful to him, like England had threatened him with.

He heard voices outside, and he tried to block them out. Sometimes people stood outside his house and he could hear them discussing about what to do with the 'demon' that lived inside. If they got rid of him now, they thought, maybe the Black Death wouldn't return like it did in England now. But these voices didn't say any of that.  
"So this is where he lives?" came a female voice, sounding fairly young.  
"This is it," another voice came, sounding familiar, though he couldn't place it. "Or so the locals said. They warned us not to go in here, so it must be him."  
"He's not really that bad, right?" the girl nervously asked.  
"He likes fighting maybe a tad too much," the male voice then answered, chuckling. "But other than that, he's fine... Prussia!"  
Prussia looked up as the people knocked on his door, but he didn't get up. Not before he was sure who it was. Slowly, he already grabbed his dagger, holding it in his right hand in case the humans would come in. They knocked again and called again, then just went in. He hadn't blocked his door, he never did. No one ever entered his house out of fear for him, especially these days. _But these two did,_ he muttered internally, gripping his dagger more tightly now and bunching his muscles. He was ready to jump up and defend himself when he saw the two people entering his house, and instead of attacking the intruders he jumped up and ran over to one of them in sheer joy. "Holy Rome!" he exclaimed happily, swinging his arms around his older brother in relief and happiness. He'd missed him so much; the last time they had seen each other had been decades ago. Completely unvoluntarily, tears started welling up in his eyes, and he felt himself trembling where he stood.  
"Hey now," Holy Rome chuckled, hugging him back. "What's the matter, Prussia? I've never seen you act like this before."  
Prussia didn't answer, only gripped his brother tighter for just a moment. He'd been alone for so long now, and to have the Holy Roman Empire here now was just the best thing that could have happened to him at the moment. But he hadn't forgotten the girl his brother had taken with him, and he calmed himself in a matter of heartbeats, quickly wiped away the tears that were now threatening to fall. Then he let go of Holy Rome again and grinned at him, trying to mask his misery with his usual attitude. "Just happy to see you again. Why? Something wrong with that? Too bad, you chose to visit the awesome me yourself, suffer the consequences like a man."  
"What's happened to you, Prussia?" Holy Rome asked him gently, smiling warmly, seeing right through his little brother's mask as usual. Prussia just looked away for a moment, trying to keep the cocky grin in place, though he knew the answer must be visible in his eyes by now, and Holy Rome didn't press the matter any further. He then gestured to the girl beside him, and Prussia looked at her for the first time now. She was about as tall as him, had shoulder-length, dark blond hair and dark blue eyes. She looked a little like Holy Rome, but not as much as the Holy Roman's states he'd met so far: like the new incarnation of Bavaria, who had been born around the same time as Prussia himself. "This is the Margraviate of Brandenburg," Holy Rome introduced her. "She's family, though... not exactly a sister." He laughed then and added, "Honestly, with our family, it's sometimes hard to tell when we're siblings or cousins!"  
"But Germania wasn't my father," Brandenburg answered, smiling. "Or at least I wasn't raised by him. So consider me your cousin, Prussia!" she added to the white-haired country.  
He smiled in response and introduced himself as well, though she knew who he was already.  
Brandenburg then blinked at him, and her smile faded, pity shimmering in her eyes for just a moment. Holy Rome, too, looked worried more than anything else for a heartbeat. "How long have you been in here alone, Prussia?" he asked his little brother, inspecting the younger country for a moment. "You look so... thin."  
"Quite a while," Prussia answered, shifting on his feet a little. "But nothing I can't handle. The people will turn around again soon, I'm sure. We haven't had much trouble with Black Death for some time now." He then looked at his two visitors and grinned again. There was no way that he was going to show them any weakness -not any more than he had already for sure. "But why did you come here? Not that I'm complaining."  
"I was checking up on the state of my margraviate," Holy Rome answered, nodding to Brandenburg, "when I thought I might as well pay you a visit. In Brandenburg, I saw again that the people blame the Black Death on people with skin conditions as well... I got worried about you." He sighed then, adding softly, "And I was right to..."  
"I just wanted to meet you," Brandenburg then said, putting on a smile as well. "You're my cousin and I've never even met you before... it was about time, wasn't it?"  
"Sure was," Prussia answered, raising his chin proudly. "I don't know how you could've resisted such awesomeness when it was practically next door to you the whole time!"  
Brandenburg chuckled, then took a bag she was carrying off her shoulder and took a piece of bread out of it. At the mere sight of it, Prussia's empty stomach cramped and growled loudly. He felt his cheeks grow hot at this, but Brandenburg just laughed again and held the food out to him. "There you go," she said warmly. "We already figured you probably hadn't eaten well in a while."  
"Thanks!" Prussia happily took the bread from her and ate a few mouthfulls of it before he spoke again, though he was careful not to look too happy or relieved. He could handle this himself, and he would prove it to them. "Y'know," he said to Brandenburg then. "I just met you, so I can't give a definitive conclusion yet, but for now, you had got to be almost as awesome as me!"  
"Almost?" Brandenburg then echoed, feigning indignance. "I'm older and more influential than you in the world -I'm way more awesome than you, little brat!"  
"Don't push it, lady," Prussia then said, grinning at her. He wasn't completely certain, but still he was pretty sure she hadn't meant 'little brat' to be offensive -more like a joke. "You're a girl, and that means you can't possibly be as awesome as me. Girls are generally very unawesome, and chances are, you will turn out to be that soon enough, too!" He snickered for a moment and tore off another bite of the bread. "For now, I'm just grateful for the food."  
"When you're done flirting, Prussia," Holy Rome interrupted him then, grinning at the Prussian as he went red and started protesting. "Please come outside with me. There are a few things I need to discuss with you while I'm here, and you look like you could do with sunlight and fresh air."

They left Brandenburg in Prussia's home and walked onto the streets of Marienburg, the Teutonic capital, together. The people still avoided Prussia, but at least with someone beside him, it wasn't that bad anymore. The Holy Roman Empire sighed as they walked there, but didn't say anything for a while. Prussia stared at him, wondering what was wrong. Because somethine definitely was.  
Eventually Holy Rome spoke, and he sounded troubled when he did. "You must know by now that I'm not doing too well," he said. "My territories can't be unified. I can try, but they fight, they can't work together. There's always stuff going on about who should lead me, and from where they should do so and how and..." He sighed again. "And the Black Death did a number on me as well. You wouldn't believe how many people I've lost, Prussia."  
Prussia was staring at him, feeling a stab of worry in his heart then. Holy Rome was talking as if he was dying... but surely he wasn't? He couldn't be!  
Holy Rome saw his worried gaze and ruffled his hair a bit with a reassuring smile. "It's not _that_ bad, Prussia. Really. But it's... it's not good."  
"Why do you have to tell me this?" Prussia then asked. "I mean, I understand why you'd want to -to get it off your chest I guess- but...?"  
"Just that," Holy Rome mumbled. "I guess I just had to talk to someone who's not a part of my problems." He then looked at Prussia, and something flashed in his eyes. "How do you like Brandenburg so far?" he asked then, staring at the clouds then.  
Prussia shrugged, a little taken aback by that question. They had just talked about how bad the world was at the moment, with governmental problems all over and Black Death killing everybody. And now he was asking this? Well, it was probably to distract himself a bit. "She seems nice," Prussia mumbled. "She seems less sissy than Austria, even though she's _actually_ a girl, and that at least is a good sign." He then remembered what Holy Rome had said before he'd taken his little brother outside, and he asked angrily, "Why did you say I was _flirting_ with my _cousin_ , for Heaven's sake? I was assessing her level of awesomeness. I do that to everyone I met."  
"You didn't do it when you met me," Holy Rome reminded him. "But I suppose that's because you were being tortured and exorcised at the time... Ah well. I was joking, Prussia, calm down." He stopped walking then, closing his eyes as a cold breeze blew past, and he breathed in that fresh air deeply. " _Mám plány na vámi dvěma_ ," he mumbled to himself then, and Prussia stared at him for a moment. He didn't speak Czech, but he knew this had been that certain language.  
"Whatever. Can we go back now?" he asked then. "You mentioned sunlight, but I don't see any. It's the middle of the winter, idiot."

* * *

 _26 November 1360_

 _Holy Rome and Brandenburg have been here for a week now, though they said they would leave again soon -or at least Brandenburg is leaving. I don't know about Holy Rome. He seems so unhappy all the time. He doesn't joke with me like he used to, he smiles all the time but I can tell most of it is fake... And the worst thing?_  
 _I'm almost as tall as him now._  
 _Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but that means that, while I have been growing up rapidly in my first years as the Monastic State of the Teutonic Order, he hasn't been growing at all._  
 _I wish I could be a part of the Holy Roman Empire instead of a fief to Poland. Maybe that would help him grow up again. And besides, being among my family would be so much better than being under Polish rule, anyway! They need my awesomeness to unite, that much is clear. Holy Rome needs me, I guess._  
 _Does he really? I don't know. But I don't think I'll find out -Poland won't let me go, not without a fight. It's nice to think I'm needed here, anyway. Because so far, I've needed him. And Brandenburg, though it would've been fine as well if only Holy Rome had been here. We tried to go out again the day after they came here, all three of us together, but this time someone threw rocks at us. Well, at_ _me_ _, and they hit Holy Rome and Brandenburg as well. So after that, they were the only ones to leave the house and fetch food and such. Without them here, I'd have probably been starving by now, but instead I'm finally feeling relatively well-fed again, 'relatively' because it's winter and winters suck because they ruin the food supply._  
 _Well._  
 _It seems sometimes even awesomeness has to rely on others..._

"Ow..." Prussia muttered, rubbing his ribcage a bit.  
"Something wrong?" Holy Rome asked, walking up behind him and staring at his little brother. Prussia just immediately grinned and said he was fine. He sometimes hurt a little, seeing as the Teutonic Order was trying to expand their territory and were sometimes fighting the Grand Duchy of Lithuania over some stretch of land. But it was never bad -not yet. "Well then," Holy Rome then said, stretching his back. "It's really cold here up north in the winters, isn't it?" Prussia blinked at him, waiting for what else he was going to say now, because Holy Rome never talked avbout the weather _just_ to talk about the weather. "I'm going south to Italy tomorrow, when Brandenburg leaves for her territory again. Would you like to come with me to Venice? We should be there early next year if we leave tomorrow."  
"Uh," Prussia choked out then. "Y-yeah, sure." _Why Venice, of all places?_ he wondered. _Talk about Black Death infestation._  
"Venice again?" Brandenburg then put in, grinning at the Holy Roman Empire, who went red at this. "Visiting your girlfriend again, I see?" She sat down on the floor and stared up at Prussia, her dark eyes twinkling. "He's been trying to annex her for ages now. Probably wants to check on her, to see if she isn't doing too bad after the whole Black Death thing."  
"A-and so what if I do?" Holy Rome stuttered, flustered. "I-it's not weird that I want to check on the state of m-my future wi-... my f-future territory."  
"Did I hear the beginning of the word 'wife' there, Holy Rome?" Prussia asked then, smirking wide, leaning in closer to his flustered brother.  
"Hm, I think I did, too," Brandenburg added, leaning in closer on the empire's other side.  
"Well, you both heard wrong!" Holy Rome protested, still flustered and blushing. Prussia and Brandenburg just laughed, giving him a playful shove together. The rest of the day, Holy Rome spoke not a word to them anymore, and the next, the all left Marienburg, Brandenburg going back home again and Prussia and Holy Rome traveling southward.

On the border of Hungary, he thought about his old friend again. What was she like now? Had she at least finally realised that she was a girl? Probably. Brandenburg had been Prussia's age, but she was... well... slightly 'more feminine' than Hungary had been the last time he'd seen her, well over a century ago. His cheeks felt hot thinking about it like this, but seriously, if Hungary hadn't figured it out by now, she never would.  
"What's Italy Veneziano like?" he asked when they reached her border weeks later.  
Holy Rome smiled warmly. "She's very sweet, hard working... Paints beautifully since recently. She's amazing." He blinked and sighed then. "Still very young, though, although she's actually older than me. It's not that she's underdevelopped as a country, she's just started developping more this century. So she's... well, I think 8 years old or something. She'll grow up, you'll see."  
Prussia just stared at him. Sometimes being a country was still weird to him. His older brother the Holy Roman Empire was crushing on North Italy, who was older yet younger than him... Sometimes it was just crazy.

It was even more crazy when they finally reached Venice and saw Holy Rome's crush.  
Because no matter how Prussia looked at it, Italy Veneziano was a guy in a dress.  
 _Should I tell him...?_

But he wouldn't. He hadn't told Hungary about her own gender, he wouldn't ruin Holy Rome's crush when it was still so innocent. _So long as he never kisses a guy, I'm fine with it._

* * *

 **Another introduction down and, perhaps, another century. Because seriously, I can't find enough _really_ interesting things to write about until, like... the 16th century when mr Teutonic State becomes mr Ducal Prussia? XD**

 **Nah, I'll find something. Hopefully soon.**

 **Anyway, did you know the Black Death, aka the Bubonic Plague, killed around 40% of the European population? More perhaps, but different sources give different numbers... A lot. Just a lot. The population wasn't back up to what it used to be before the plague epidemics until the 17th century.**

 **And I made Brandenburg female because for _once_ I agree with the majority of the fandom that Hetalia needs more girlpower. And other reasons. Like, the Germanic family especially needs something else than just guys (says me after writing two books about the all-male British Isles family... right) But the Germanic family, at this point in time at least, has so much more member than they did...**

 **Well, anyway, I hope you liked it a little, and thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10!**

 **A thank you to Awesomely Random and Abc for reviewing, to ThatGirlUnderTheBox for the follow and favourite(s), and to Crossfire for helping me out with the history in this and inspiration!**

 **This chapter is a bit different than most have been so far... and I hope you'll enjoy it!**

* * *

 _13 May 1409_

 _Finally, some action again! I mean, sure it sucks that the Samogitians in my territory started an uprising and all that, but finally I can do something again! With the border skirmishes, I wasn't really wanted in my army: they could handle it all themselves, and countries have other things to do than to just fight. But now? Now I'm leading my Knights again!_  
 _Ha! Those Samogitians don't know who they're up against -I'll try to go easy on them._  
 _And it's not just them who will get to meet my sword: their ethnic brothers in Lithuania will, too, for all the trouble they've caused me in tears before. And Poland? He'll know that he can't keep me under his rule forever. The Samogitians aren't the only ones who can rise._

The Teutonic Grand Master sighed and closed Prussia's book, the young country staring up at his leader in shame. "You've been boasting again, hm?" the human mumbled, half to himself. "Prussia, the Lithuanians have decided to support the Samogitian Uprising and threatened to invade our land. I think it's about time you quit with your foolish bravado."  
"We can take the Lithuanians," Prussia protested, though he didn't feel quite as confident as he would've liked to. "Don't worry, we'll win."  
"Can we take the Samogitians together with the Lithuanians _and the Polish?_ " Grand Master Ulrich then questioned, looking at his country intently. "This isn't a laughing matter, Prussia, this is serious. This is _war_. War against two of the strongest powers in this part of the world, nonetheless." The man looked at Prussia with increasing anger, thought the immortal knew it wasn't all directed at him. Not all of it.  
Prussia sighed and averted his gaze. "What should I do, then?" he asked, getting frustrated himself. Like he could solve every problem they had, for God's sake! "Walk up to them and say something like, 'hey, about those threats: we had the wrong adress, sorry'? If a war is coming, it's coming, and all we can do is fight it and _win!_ "  
He heard a loud smack, and before he even knew what was going on, he was on the floor. Scrambling up, he stared up at his leader. He felt his cheek burn then, something he hadn't noticed before. The Grand Master just stood towering over him, looking down at his country in disappointment, frustration and anger. "You could at least take it seriously, child," he said, then turned around and left him there.

Prussia just stared after him, staying on the ground until his Grand Master had left. He knew his leader had been right to put him in his place like that, and he felt no anger, only shame. He wasn't taking this seriously enough, Ulrich had been right about that. If this war happened, it would be the greatest war of his life, and he didn't know how to handle it. The Samogitian Uprising wasn't a problem if it were only that, but Poland practically _ruled_ over him, and he hadn't been able to break free yet. As for Lithuania... _He killed the previous Prussia,_ he remembered with a shiver. _What if he does it again?_ Alone now, he lay down where he sat, the cold marble chilling him to the core. But nothing could freeze his blood like the dread that filled his entire body at that moment. He needed to become stronger if he wanted to stand any chance in this world. The only way to do so was to expand his territory, to gain more influence, to lose his status as a Polish fief and actually become independent. And the only way to do that was to fight. To fight for his people, their future. For _his_ future. But weren't the stakes too high, if they consisted of the continued existence of the Teutonic Order and his own life? "I can do this," he whispered to himself. "I can do this..."

* * *

Prussia and the Order decided it was best not to wait, but to act. The Teutonic Knights invaded Poland in August that year. Soon after, a truce came, which was to end in the summer of 1410.  
That summer was the worst of his life so far.

Prussia felt his stomach twist as he looked at the opponents. The Polish-Lithuanian army was far greater than his. Still, the child stood tall and proud as he turned to face his people, showing not a hint of fear. "We have fought against armies greater than ours before, men," he told them. "Our people were born from battle. The power to wage war and _win_ flows through our veins. I cannot promise you that we'll have a victory today, but I swear to you that today shall only make us stronger."  
His people listened to every word he spoke, and though he knew some of them still found it strange that a child was leading them into this battle alongside their Grand Master, they seemed reassured by his words, and they charged into battle.  
Prussia knew that Poland and Lithuania were there as well today, and though the thought filled him with fear, it also gave him strength: he would not let them beat him -not easily at least. He had a bad feeling about that day, but he would not let it affect his skills.  
As he fought fiercer than ever before, his red eyes sought out two enemies in particular. He had only ever seen Poland before, but he knew he could recognise Lithuania in a heartbeat. _If I see two children,_ he thought as he practically chopped off an enemy's head with a slash of his sword, _I'll know it's them!_ Suddenly pain flashed through his lower back, and as he spun around swiftly, he nearly stumbled in pain. The sword that had slashed at him hadn't cut through his chainmail vest, but the metal rings had scraped his back badly. Rage flaring up in him, he attacked this knight with a fearsome roar. He caught the man off-guard -he'd probably thought a child wouldn't be such a skilled warrior. _But I'm no child!_ he thought as he buried his weapon in the man's chest. He had 200 years of battles behind him: no one here could even hope to beat him! _No one but those older and more experienced than me._ But even those would one day perish, struck down by a blade. And he would make sure that blade would be his.  
Suddenly he saw the Lithuanian cavalry flash by on his left, and he spotted a young teenager with long, mousy brown hair tied into a ponytail among them. He stopped and stared for just a heartbeat, grinning. _Found you_. There was no way Lithuania could spend the entire battle on his horse's back, and the moment his feet hit the ground, Prussia would be there to end him completely.  
For now he made a dash through the lines of the Polish army. Still small as he was, he was too swift and nimble for any of the Polish knights to give him more than a scratch. And the moment his eyes fell on a boy with shoulder-length blond hair, his heartbeat picked up its pace. He'd found Poland and Lithuania, he knew now who he was up against now, and he knew he could find them again when he needed this battle to end quickly. First he would work on decimating their army together with his people.

He didn't know how long he'd been fighting in the end, but it must've been a long time. The sun had traveled far across the sky by the time he decided he was hurting enough now, and he would take this battle directly to Poland -and only Poland, for Lithuania and his cavalry had just fled the battle. At this thought, hope made his heart flutter inside his battered chest for a moment. If it were only Poland, he could take him. The older country had suffered in this battle just like him, and at least _Prussia_ had been born for war, born _from war_. He hadn't lied when he'd said warfare was simply in his blood. Why else would he hear it roar through his veins almost as though it were an internal battlecry everytime he fought?  
It didn't take him long to find Poland, who had just struck down a Teutonic Knight. Furious, Prussia called his name, and the teenager spun around, facing him. His dark green eyes flashed with fury as he laid eyes on his fief, then worldlessly jumped to him with his sword raised high above his head. Prussia sidestepped, blocking the blow with his own sword, then tried to kick Poland's feet from under him. "You're all alone now!" he taunted the older country. "Your dear friend _fled_ , Poland, and I advise you to do the same thing!"  
"Why don't you?" Poland answered, grinning at him as he hit Prussia on the shoulder with the flat side of his blade.  
Pain blazed through Prussia's arm like fire now, but he managed to not drop his weapon and retaliate. "This is war," he said. "I don't back down from a good fight!" He knocked his sword against Poland's hard, bringing his enemy off balance by shifting the weight of his heavy weapon. Then he took a quick step to his left, ending up just behind Poland, and kicked the older country against his knee, forcing it to bend and his enemy to fall to the ground. Poland then tried to scramble up again, but before he could, Prussia held his sword at a milimetre's distance from his face, and the older country stopped moving, glaring up at the young knight. "Checkmate," Prussia said softly with a satisfied smirk spreading on his face. "Now drop yout sword."  
Poland only glared at him, muttering something in Polish, which Prussia, speaking only a few basic sentences of the language, couldn't follow.  
"I said drop it, swine!" he yelled in anger, his body growing tense. Poland sighed then, held out his sword and let it drop to the ground with a loud thud. Prussia grinned then, his eyes shimmering with bloodthirst. "Good," he mumbled, raising his sword above his head in both hands. "I hope you know where to find your little friend on the other side." Then he brought his sword down with amazing speed, and-  
Something blocked his blow halfway, before he could hit Poland and split his skull in two. Stunned, he looked at the blade that was lodged under his, keeping it from ending his enemy's life, and with a sudden wave of dread, he realised he could feel another, cold blade pressed tightly against his neck. His heart skipped a beat as he judged his attacker's lenght quickly from the way he held his two weapons, and realised who it was. "Y-you _fled_ ," he choked out.  
He could hear Lithuania chuckle in his ear. "Always check your surroundings," he said in bad, accented German, "before you declare victory." He pressed his knife as close to Prussia's skin as he could without cutting him, then ordered, "Now _you_ drop it, _worm!_ "  
A shiver going down his spine, Prussia did as he was told. He felt ashamed as he saw his sword drop to the ground: this was a surrender. _Prussia never surrendered._ But what else should he do? Die? He was only 218 years old, very young for a country, he wasn't about to let his life be ended now! Then he realised again that this was Lithuania, the country who had killed him in his previous, Baltic life, and his heart seemed to freeze over with fear. "So what're going to do now?" he demanded bravely. "Kill me, like you did before?"  
"My sister was a pest," Lithuania answered. "Always fighting me. Like you are now. But I did not kill her, not directly. Know what I did?" He let his dagger slide against Prussia's skin now, and he felt the grand duchy was drawing just a little bit of blood now. "I only cut her," Lithuania told him slowly, threateningly. "I cut her like this, in shoulder. Cut then got infected later, she got sick. No one helped her, no one could, and she died."  
Prussia gulped. He hadn't thought about that. He'd had infected wounds before, but if it was a cut inflicted by another country that got infected, it wasn't just painful and sickening - _it was lethal_. "So you didn't mean to kill her?" he then asked, trying to sound calm.  
"No," Lithuania answered. "But I also did not mourn her when she went. I knew she'd be back -didn't think she'd be back in the shape of an annoying little worm like you, though."  
"Just bring him down now, Liet," Poland said to his friend and ally, getting up. "We'll show him not to mess with us, but he doesn't need to die - _yet_. Don't forget I own the pest."  
Lithuania then moved the dagger away from Prussia's neck, and the young country, not having understood all that Poland had said, sighed in relief as he thought they let him go. But then he felt a blow to the back of his head, and everything went black for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, he was curled up on the grass with Poland and Lithuania towering over him. Poland had his sword sheathed again, grinned at his fief, then brought the weapon down on Prussia's chest and stomach two, three, four times. It left the Prussian gasping for the breath that had been knocked from his body, then he felt an awful, metallic tasting substance rising in his throat, and he rolled onto his side just in time before he coughed and threw up a mouthfull of blood. As he gasped again to catch his breath, he looked over the battlefield. He saw too many dead, most of them wearing white with a black cross. He could just see some of his people retreating, chased by the Lithuanians and the Polish, then he felt more blood rising in his throat, and he coughed up more of it. He felt his strength leaving his body rapidly, and he passed out.

* * *

When Prussia woke up, he was cold and surrounded by darkness, and he felt pretty certain that he was dead now. And he'd probably ended up in Hell for all his actions in his life. _But where are the hellfires?_ he wondered to himself. _Shouldn't I be scorched with unbearable heat in Hell? That's what the priests always say..._ Then he sat up and looked around, but he couldn't see anything. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled a few steps, bumping into something hard. He grunted, rubbing his cheek with one hand, which had hit a steel bar hard. _Steel bar?_ He reached out with his hands and felt around in the darkness until he found them again: thick, steel bars, too close together to squeeze through. And then he realised he was in prison somewhere, and he could guess where that somewhere was. "Hey!" he called as loud as he could. "Poland! Lithuania! Show your cowardly faces down here!" His calls were answered with silence, and after some time, he gave up, stumbled back until he found the wall of his cell -realising it was a damn tiny one, at that- and let himself slide onto the cold stones of the floor again. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he shivered, hugging his knees close to himself to try and find some warmth. It was the middle of a hot summer, but he felt like he was slowly freezing in here. The cold made him drowsy, and he closed his eyes after some time.  
He'd just about dozed off there when he saw lights dancing on the inside of his closed eyelids, and he opened them to see what was going on. Poland stood there, with a torch in his hand, staring at Prussia in cold anger. "Finally awake again?" he began. "You slept for a day and a half. Well, you're awake just in time for all the fun to really start. Liet and I, we raided your Knight's camp near Grunwald after they retreated. More men were slaughtered there than on the entire battlefield! And you, little worm, _you were screaming in pain._ Completely out cold, but still screaming and crying and begging us to stop. But you know what? _We won't._ You have to be put in your place again, little thing, feel that you're _nothing_ , that you're worth nothing and capable of nothing! Lithuania is leading the army to lay siege on Marienburg." Prussia's heart skipped a beat again, and Poland grinned. "Indeed, on your capital. Have you ever had your heart attacked like that before? It hurts, little thing, it hurts. You'll be screaming for days before we're done with you." Then Poland turned around and left again.  
Prussia stared ahead in the darkness for a little while, then hugged his knees closer again. But not even his own bodyheat could warm him now. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and for a moment, he was glad that he was alone in the darkness. At least there was no one to watch him cry in fear.

* * *

The actual siege didn't happen until perhaps two weeks after Poland had warned him about it. At first it hurt, it hurt a lot. Prussia was constantly shaking and having trouble breathing through the pain. He eventually got used to that, but that didn't really make it any better. He'd been in that state for about three days, during which he hadn't made a sound. He wouldn't give Poland the pleasure of hearing him scream like he'd said Prussia would. The next weeks, the pain slowly faded and was reduced to nothing but an annoying, nagging pressure. After the second week, whenever Poland came down to taunt him about the process of the siege, the attacks on other settlements and the fact that Prussia was still nothing but his fief and would never be more than that, Prussia just stood there, looking back at him with a calm and confident expression. Everytime he did that, Poland got a little more frustrated with him, and that was all he needed to keep it up for all those weeks.  
"Your castles are being captured all over, little worm," Poland told him one day. "You hear me? You're losing your settlements. You're losing your people. And when we're done invading your land, you'll lose your life. Ready to listen to us now?"  
"I'm listening," Prussia answered calmly. "Does it make any difference whether I listen or not? Oh, and I also feel a lot better than a few days ago, by the way. Am I getting help from others or something? Sucks for you, there are people who support me against you."  
"The Hungarians and Bohemians don't stand a chance against us," Poland answered then, and Prussia smirked at him. Hungary and Bohemia were aiding the Knights! That was all he needed to know. "If you listen to what I say," Poland then went on, "I'll let you live. I have no use for a disobedient fief like you. So maybe you should consider it, if you value your life."  
Prussia just raised his chin arrogantly and spat in his face. With a grimace, Poland wiped his face clean and left again. When he heard the blonde kingdom close the door to the dungeons, Prussia stepped back and sat down again in the unrelenting darkness, shivering. He wasn't about to show any weakness, but he felt it with every beat of his heart. He felt like he had no strength left in his body, not just from malnutrition but also from bloodloss, the loss of people. Loss of territory. He could only hope the Teutonic Order could pull through. He wondered if they had a new leader already, since Grand Master Ulrich had been killed in the great battle weeks before. Would he lead them to victory at last? He wished he could go by more than the aches and uneasiness he felt in his own body to determine how the war went. He had practically nothing to go by now.

* * *

He'd tried to kill Poland, he realised one day. He'd _wanted_ to kill him at Grunwald, just before Lithuania had come to his ally's rescue. Why? He loved to fight, yes, but he had never _wanted_ to kill anything. Locked up as he was, Prussia had all the time in the world to ponder over everything that had happened that fateful day. What was wrong with him, if he got so bloodthirsty the moment he got his enemy on his knees? Disarming Poland, getting him in a situation where he stood no chance against Prussia... that should be enough. That was a victory. There was absolutely no reason to want to kill him, none at all, and yet he'd wanted to do it so badly. Was that even relatively normal? Healthy? Did this mean he really _was_ evil, then? He felt sick for a moment as he thought about his feelings at that moment, with his sword raised above his head, ready to split Poland in two. He was born from war, for war, he knew that. Was he also born to kill? To _fight_ the urge to kill fellow countries whenever he got the chance? Maybe that was who he was, what his destiny in this life was -to be right on the border of being a murderer, and to be tempted to kill all the time?  
This was his first time directly fighting another country, and he'd threatened to kill the boy! Surely it wasn't going to be like that everytime he faced off with an immortal?  
For a moment there, he was actually grateful to Poland and Lithuania for locking him up like that, with nothing but his own mind to talk to. If he had been in battle with them still, he probably wouldn't have realised this side of himself until it was too late.  
 _Whatever I am,_ he told himself that night, _I am not a murderer. I will never be._

* * *

"Prussia!" came Poland's voice one afternoon, and when the older boy came down into the dungeon, he had Lithuania behind him and keys in his hand. "Good news for you: the siege ended and your ransom has been paid. You can go home now." He chuckled then. "To what's left of it, that is."  
Lithuania just glared at him and sighed. "You're a resilient kid, you know that?" he said to Prussia. "I've never seen a single army get as destroyed like yours was in my life, and you're still standing here."  
"And you learned more German," Prussia answered, shrugging. "It seems miracles do exist, hm?" He just walked out of his cell and past them the moment they opened the door, but Poland grabbed the back of his white tunic -which was smeared with dirt and torn by now -and stopped him from leaving yet. "You're free now," he told the young knight. "But know that we will not allow you to invade us ever again. The next time, we won't show you such mercy."  
"Good," was Prussia's only answer as he pulled himself free. "Because I won't, either."

He wouldn't be a murderer. But this was the last time he'd let himself be defeated like this.

* * *

 **So, the Battle of Grunwald! (Also known as the First Battle of Tannenberg, 15 July 1410) It was described as one of the greatest battles in medieval Europe, and the Teutonic defeat was also one of the greatest defeats of the time. The battle lasted around 10 hours, and as you could read, didn't end there. A lot of Teutonic Knights, if they weren't killed, were taken prisoner and there were pretty high ransoms for each.**

 **Have you read the strip about the Battle of Grunwald? (It's the one about the Polish-Swedish Wars, actually) Yeah. Prussia looked like he was a true psycho there, about to chop off Poland's head. And that's not the only time he's portrayed like that. Himaruya himself once stated that Prussia was originally meant to be the bad guy of the series, but he eventually evolved into the slightly childish, arrogant, loveable prick he is now... And he is! But he's also a little easily tempted sometimes...**

 **Well, that's it for this week's chapter! I hope you liked it (I still think I suck at writing battles... they take a while to describe well) and thanks for reading~!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi all!**

 **I'm a day late with this one, but still better than a week...**

 **Thanks to TheBlueAcid, Awesomely Random and Crossfire for the reviews and the follow, and NepheleNilfhain for the favourite!**

* * *

 _1 February 1411_

 _I hate this._  
 _That's all._

Prussia sat at a large, stone table, his red eyes fixed on Poland and Lithuania. The two older countries, victors in their recent war, were calm as they discussed peace with Prussia's Grand Master, Heinrich von Plauen. Prussia wasn't really participating in the discussions: he was shivering were he sat, his body burning with fever, and his sight was blurred with exhaustion and dizziness. He knew he couldn't even stand up if he tried now: he'd collapse in a heartbeat. The Battle of Grunwald and the siege of Marienburg hadn't been all yet: in October, he'd been defeated in another great battle against Poland and Lithuania.  
The Grand Master had wanted to continue fighting, but the Teutonic Council had advised against it. For once, Prussia had agreed to the idea of peace, even if it meant making compromises. He felt too awful to even want to think about lifting his sword now.  
He didn't quite follow what was being said, but he picked up enough to know that he wasn't being stripped of too much territory. He knew the economical part would be terrible, his raging fever told him that much. And Judging by the discontented faces of Lithuania and Poland at some point, the treaty wasn't exactly in their favour, either. _Serves you right,_ he thought angrily, sighing.  
Eventually he just got the treaty shoved under his nose, and Poland held out a quill and inkwell to him. Silently, Prussia took the two items from him and gave the treaty a quick scan. But though he wrote it often and read it almost daily, his mind couldn't process the Latin text anymore now, and he simply dipped the quill in the ink and signed. Poland raised and eyebrow at him questioningly as Prussia handed the items back to him, mumbling softly, " _Leworęczny_?" Prussia couldn't even translate that single word anymore now. The humans in the room then got up one by one and left after the treaty was signed by everyone, but Poland and Lithuania remained there with Prussia.

"You're really not doing well, are you, worm?" Poland asked, sitting down on the table in front of Prussia, who was shivering in cold. He felt like he was wrapped in a blanket made of snow that wouldn't melt, even though his body felt like it had twice its normal temperature. Prussia didn't answer: he was too busy trying to keep his teeth from clattering. But he managed a glare in his enemies' - _former enemies'_ \- direction. Poland stared at him for a moment longer, and Prussia thought he could see pity flash in his dark green gaze, mixed with a bit of guilt. "Look, I don't like beating others up to this point," he said, almost apologetically. "But you had this coming, Prussia. You've been a pain in the ass since forever, and to invade us just like that! You've got some nerve, I'll give you that, but you should see this as a lesson." Prussia just stared at him in silence, glaring, but listening intently at the same time. Poland noticed that little detail, thankfully. "You can fight, Prussia, you're amazingly strong for your size and age. _But your size and age are the problem._ Your status in the world, unfortunately for you, does not give you the freedom to just take whatever land you want. You don't have the strength for that nor the international relations! Older countries won't react nicely if you invade them, as we showed you over the past year. You feel now what it's like to be put in your place again: don't let it happen again, for your own sake."  
"A next time might kill you," Lithuania added with an agreeing nod. "Not saying I want to kill you, but it might. You'll recover now, but you're terribly ill already."  
"It's not like this battle was like a walk in the courtyard," Prussia muttered then, his voice hoarse. "I've not heard of a battle quite as horrible as this one."  
"Well, to be fair," Poland then said with a hint of laughter in his voice, "England and France have been going at it for how many decades now? Sometimes I think their war will never end."  
"Probably won't," Lithuania agreed. Prussia just huffed and rested his head on the table, closing his eyes and not responding to that.  
Poland and Lithuania talked some more, but to each other, for it was in their native languages. Prussia didn't listen to them anymore then: he just wanted to sleep, and hoped he would feel better once he woke. But he was still trembling violently, and his teeth were now finally clattering since he was trying to relax. His consciousness slipped after some time, leaving him with a comfortable emptiness in which he remained for some time -hours at least.

Slowly he woke again, feeling a hand on his shoulder and a voice talking to him from somewhere far away. Prussia grunted and shifted in his half-asleep state. He still felt bad, and he wanted to continue sleeping. But at least it wasn't as cold anymore as it had been earlier that day. "Prussia, boy, wake up," came the voice that he now recognised as von Plauen's again. "It's late, we're going home." The young country groggily blinked open his eyes, staring up at his Grand Master with a tired gaze. And then he suddenly realised why he wasn't feeling so cold anymore: a warm, thick coat lined with fur lay over his back and shoulders. He plucked at some of the fur in confusion, then just got up and left together with his leader. He stumbled once, but after that, he could walk pretty steadiy again.  
"So how did it turn out for us?" he asked when they got outisde, where a light snow still lay, partially melted. Today hadn't been as cold as other days, to his relief.  
"You didn't listen at all, did you?" the human sighed, and Prussia shook his head. "Let's just say that, though we've lost the war, _this_ was _our_ victory. I'll explain more later."  
Prussia nodded then, a tiny smile playing at his lips. Well, at least it wasn't a complete loss, then. He climbed into th carriage beside his Grand Master. They would stay in Thorn for today, where the treaty had been signed, and tomorrow they would head back to Marienburg. Inside, he coughed harshly, and when he could breathe again, he huffed and looked out of the small window in the door of the carriage.  
"The cold weather isn't doing you any good, is it?" the Grand Master mumbled then, staring at his country.  
But Prussia shook his head. "It's not the weather, I'm used to the cold." He'd tried to explain this several times before now, but it seemed like the human would never understand. "It's because we lost the war, because the economy is doing so bad now that we have to pay for reparations and the ransoms for the knights..."  
"We'll raise taxes to earn the money for the debts," von Plauen then said. "You'll feel better soon."  
 _Won't work._ Prussia stifled a sigh. It's not like his new leader was a bad leader, at least he thought he wasn't so far, but he didn't seem to be making an effort of understanding how his country's body worked. In that respect, he was taking _awful_ care of his country, and Prussia could get really pissed at that sometimes. The man hadn't known him any other way than in a bad condition from the moment he became Grand Master, but he still refused to listen to the child. _At least he gave me this coat..._ he thought bitterly, wrapping said item tighter around his trembling shoulders. And then he realised something: the Grand Master was wearing his own coat right now, and besides, even if he wasn't, it would've been way too big on Prussia. This belonged to a child, a teenager at most. He suddenly remembered Lithuania wearing a fur coat that looked eerily similar to this one when he arrived in Thorn. And at that thought, the young Prussian suddenly felt a surge of warmth, a warmth much more comfortable than the heat of his fever. _Thanks... Liet._

* * *

Prussia wasn't back in Marienburg for long before he got a visitor. And not just any visitor, either. "Wow, you really live in a hovel, don't you?" Hungary said judgingly as she looked around the Prussian's house. He just huffed.  
"I chose not to live with my leaders," he answered, huddling close to the fireplace. The days were still cold, though he felt a little bit better now that his fever was gone.  
"I can see that," Hungary answered, tilting her head to one side as she inspected Prussia's house a bit longer. "I guess I just thought you'd be living in a _little_ more luxury than this, since you've been sending those expensive gifts to Sigis lately."  
"I didn't send those things personally, did I?" Prussia then said, rolling his eyes. He guessed 'Sigis' referred to Sigismund, the Holy Roman Emperor, Prince-elector of Brandenburg and King of Hungary amongst other kingdoms, and he was surprised at the familiar terms on which she spoke about the man. He couldn't even dream about giving his own leader nicknames like that. "And to be frank, the economy is a mess after that damned war."  
Hungary sighed and sat down beside him. "I suppose so," she mumbled. "But stil..."  
Prussia just stared at her from the corner of his eyes. He always felt a certain pressure on his chest whenever he looked at Hungary now, and he hated it, though it didn't feel all too uncomfortable. She still didn't wear a dress, but her attire was becoming a little more feminine by now, which only accented the fact that she was a girl. He estimated her as being a young teenager now, and she looked the part as well: tall and slim, with feminine curves even though she was still a bit childlike as well. His face felt warm as he looked at her like that, and he quickly looked away again. It was too awkward having her over like this, but he didn't want to send her away, either. All he knew was that, if he _had_ to have a girl country over, he'd prefer Brandenburg over Hungary any day. The fact that they were of almost the same age and that they were related to each other made it much less awkward, though he couldn't tell why. To have Hungary here, a _girlier_ girl than Brandenburg (well, as far as appearance went), was something he just really didn't like. But he didn't want her to leave, not ever if it was solely up to him. She was still his oldest friend.  
"You're really still weird, you know that?" Hungary suddenly said, staring at Prussia. "You still look weird, that's nothing new and probably will never change. But you also act weird. Thinking you can just invade other countries like that and win, hah! And then you try to buy my allegiance? You silly kid." Her words were harsh, but her voice and eyes were affectionate as she spoke. She then ruffled Prussia's white hair and got up. "You know what? I'll take care of cooking dinner tonight: don't want you sneezing all over my food, thank you very much."  
"And who said I want you even touching what I'm supposed to eat?" Prussia then protested, getting up quickly and swaying in the process.  
Hungary grinned at this. "Fine then, I won't cook for you. Good luck making your own food once you've found out how to stand up straight again."  
He just stood up straight as she told him to and walked over to her side without stumbling even once. "Well now," he said proudly. "Will you let me into my own kitchen now?" Hungary just laughed and gave him a playful shove, pushing him right out of balance in a heartbeat. But he got to his feet again as quickly as before. He would not let anybody take care of him, not even after a horrible war like this!

Until he did.

* * *

 _4 August 1414_

 _Holy Rome said I could no longer stay in my own land now if I wanted to recover from the effects of my brief war with Poland this summer. It lasted only about 2 weeks, but my army couldn't take it. The war isn't the biggest problem I have within my borders now, it's that the economy is still shit, there's a famine in my land and Black Death has struck again. I already got infected, which is the reason Holy Rome even came. He told the Grand Master that, for me to make a complete recovery as quickly as possible, I had to go somewhere else. Without a famine and without borders to worry about._  
 _Where did he recommend?_  
 _Brandenburg._

 _I don't what he's planning, but he is definitely planning something. I finally know what he said the first time he brought my cousin so we could meet each other. That stuff in Czech? 'I have plans for the two of you.'_  
 _I don't know what it means, Holy Rome, but I will find out! And it had better be something awesome, else I won't be quick to forgive you, what with you having been plotting this for half a century, whatever 'this' is._

"And so you decided to bring a plague-infected country _here?"_ Brandenburg demanded angrily after Holy Rome explained why he and Prussia suddenly showed up on her doorstep like that.  
"To be honest," Prussia then brought in, rolling his eyes, "I'm over the plague already, thank you."  
"Why?" Holy Rome then asked in response. "Are you going to send him away, then?"  
"Of course not!" Brandenburg retorted, angry that he even _thought_ she would do something like that. "But have you considered what the effects might be if we infect each other? Are you certain that won't have the same effect as running a sword through another country would have?"  
"Again, I'm pretty much over the plague already," Prussia butted in, getting annoyed. "And I'm also standing right here, if you hadn't noticed. _I_ can talk, too, you know!" But his brother and cousin were still completely ignoring his presence, much to his frustration.  
"I hardly think he could get you killed," Holy Rome then said, crossing his arms with a huff. "And besides, it's not like he'll give you a lot of work by being here. I will be here, looking after him for some time. And if that's not enough to convince you, no worries: if it's going to be anything like the last few days have been, he'll be spending most of his time here asleep."  
" _I'm standing right here!_ " Prussia then interrupted Holy Rome angrily, glaring at both him and Brandenburg. "And I would appreciate it if you stopped talking like I'm not here, listening to every word you're saying!"  
"You're supposed to be half-dead," Brandenburg then said to him. "Act like it and shut up."  
At this, Prussia just grumbled something and turned around, walking away on unsteady feet. But he didn't slow down as he walked, until Holy Rome called after him. "Where do you think you're going, Prussia?"  
"I'm going home!"  
"Where you can catch plague again and starve to death? _On foot?_ "  
"I'm pretty sure I know how to steal a horse," Prussia answered, rolling his eyes again with an exasperated sigh.  
"And you also know what the punishment is for doing that, and I think you and I both know very well that you'd never risk it."  
Brandenburg took a completely different approach, just walking up to Prussia, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him back with her. He struggled, and though he was a lot stronger than she was, right now he didn't stand a chance. "Let's get you inside now, Prussia," she said flatly as they passed the Holy Roman Empire. "I'll get you something to eat, too. Do you like apples? I got a lot of those right now."  
"If you're not careful," Prussia then said in response, grinning a bit, "I'll start associating you with food!" At this rate, he really would. The first time they met, she had taken some bread with her for him. The second time had been over at Holy Rome's place, during a banquet (he still didn't know why he'd been invited there, since he still wasn't part of the Holy Roman Empire) and now this.  
"Like a dog does his owner," Brandenburg snickered. "Good. At least I'll know you'll be loyal to me, then!"

Holy Rome had been right: it took Prussia only a good hour to fall asleep again. He inspected his little brother for a moment as the boy slept, sighing as he saw again how thin Prussia had gotten over the weeks. The combination of the plague and the war-induced famine had done a real number on him.  
"He'll be fine again before you know it," Brandenburg said, seemingly popping up behind him out of thin air. Holy Rome nearly jumped in shock, then turned around to stare at her in annoyance. The girl just smirked at him, happy that she managed to spook him like that.  
"Just be quiet, will you?" Holy Rome said, getting up with a sigh and walking away, his margraviate following him quietly.  
"What is up with you today?" she asked, sounding both annoyed and worried. "You're never so tense and cranky! Do you care so much about him?"  
"Prussia?" Holy Rome echoed, shaking his head. "No, he's not the problem. Well, don't get me wrong!" he added as he saw the indignant stare his younger cousin gave him at his answer. "Of course I care about him, but it's not like I think he'll die. I know he won't -not from this."  
"Then what _is_ bothering you?" Brandenburg demanded, huffing. "If you're going to be like this all the time, I'll send you away, you know that!"  
Holy Rome didn't answer immediately, and instead stared at a painting on Brandenburg's wall for a moment. "What's bothering me," he mumbled eventually, "is the state of my so-called empire. We're not united. _You're_ not united, and you're going to kill me someday with this attitude!"  
"Holy Rome!" Brandenburg exclaimed at that, all she managed to choke out then. She hated it when her cousin acted like this.  
Holy Rome saw her expression, one of shock and sadness, and quickly apologised. "I didn't mean to make it sound like I blame you," he explained. "I'm sorry for that. But can you understand that it's frustrating?" Brandenburg nodded silently. "I've tried to make you all see the problem for ages," Holy Rome went on, "but to no avail. When will this family finally learn to work together?" He then walked back to where Prussia was sleeping, staring at the pale figure for a moment in silence. "I want him as my territory," he mumbled after a little while, narrowing his eyes. "I _need_ him as my territory."  
"He's been trying hard enough to break free from Poland," Brandenburg put in, not looking at either of the two countries now as she was putting some stuff back in a cupboard. "You'd better leave him alone."  
"Since when do you care?" Holy Rome asked softly, but received no answer, and he doubted she had even heard him. "I know Poland's a problem in this matter, but he can't keep Prussia under his control forever. As for the Teutonic Knights, they will perish someday as well. Prussia is connected to the other natives of his land enough now to not have his life completely depending on the existence of the Knights... once those are out of the way as well, he will be free for the taking."  
"You're being possessive again," Brandenburg warned him dryly. This was nothing new: the Holy Roman Empire had been searching for something to ensure his own continued existence for decades now, and it seemed like this time, he had his hopes set on Prussia. Though why he was so focused on adding such a small, unimportant little country to his empire, she had no idea.  
But Holy Rome was pretty sure Prussia was more important than he seemed right now. He couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling that this 'unimportant little country' would play an important part in uniting the Holy Roman Empire's territories, when the day finally came that he would be one of them. Right now he would do anything to keep him alive, for Prussia might on the end be the one thing to keep _him_ alive, as well.

* * *

 **No, no, this is not some sort of 'dark side' to Holy Rome (though I can't imagine him being all kind and sweet all the time... or ever for that matter, if we want to stay completely historically accurate -no one would be in that case) Buuuut I imagine he does really want Prussia to join the Holy Roman Empire.**

 **And I just had to make _one_ chapter with Prussia feeling like shit after such a major war in his life, otherwise he'd be all "Got beaten in one of the worst wars in Medieval Europe? Yeah, shitty... Now let's snap to it and invade again!" (well, he did kinda do so historically, but ah well...)**

 **Anyway, the next should be a little brighter again... (actually not sure what to do with that one yet, but we'll see)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello again, I got a new chapter for y'all!**

 **Righty, this time I want to thank ABCSonicKirbyWarriors and TheBlueAcid for the two reviews!**

 **Gah, this piece of history was frustrating. I don't know why I struggled so much with it, but I did. _And it's not finished yet._ Have mercy, internet, make my searches easier!  
Ah well, it's an important part in Prussian and Teutonic history this week, and I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _22 February 1454_

 _Now what?_  
 _Poland declared war on me again. And now, my land has been divided as well -2 days ago, on the 20th, delegates from the 'Prussian Confederation' arrived in Krakow and asked for Prussia to_ _become a part of Poland_ _. They want me to merge with the Kingdom of Poland! The Teutonic Knights don't, obviously. So now this will be a war against my own people, whichever side I choose. Why?_ _ **Why?**_  
 _I didn't want to show any of the Teutonic Knights how lost I feel right now, but that's seriously how I feel: lost, confused, torn. Whether I like it or not, both the Prussians and the Teutonic Knights are my people now. I've represented both for over a century now, there isn't really a way back to just represent one side in this battle._  
 _I've been having headaches for months now, I guess I now know why... And now that it's come to this, I feel like my head is going to split in half._

 _At least Poland has been fighting with Lithuania now. The two lovey-dovey idiots have finally broken up... (well, to be fair, they weren't ever 'lovey-dovey' from what I could see, but hey, I'm still a kid, let me have my imagination) So I guess there's a very slim chance that Lithuania will be aiding Poland in tearing me apart for real this time._  
 _I'm hoping I can turn to my long-time allies, the Livonian Order, again. But they've been clashing with Denmark, so... Maybe my family. I'm sure Holy Rome will sent troops for me if I ask him. I could also ask for England or France, since they're both amazingly strong, but they've just finished their war (can you believe it? After 116 years, they've finally quit!) and I suppose they're both too weak to help now -at least they won't be backing up Poland, either. Ha, England, the poor guy... Not only was Scotland fighting with France, I heard Wales also rebelled against him at one point. Well, I guess that's what you get. It taught me one thing: don't fight your family, shit will go down._

 _Anyway, for now I must trust in my own strength to overcome this. My own strength and a good dose of alcohol for the headache, because I swear, my head will explode at this rate._  
 _And besides, we've got one person on our side that the Prussian Confederation and Poland don't:_  
 _Gott ist mit uns._

Right now Prussia was in Cölln, on of Brandenburg's cities, for a treaty with her to pawn back a stretch of land which had been sold to the Teutonic Order earlier that century. They had no real use for it now, and only more so did they need money to fund their army in this war. They had just about settled everything and were ready to leave, when Brandenburg approached Prussia.  
"Can you go three decades without fighting?" she asked him flatly. "This is ridiculous, Prussia! I don't even remember how many times you've fought Poland over the past _century_ , but it's been _many_ times."  
"I lost count, too," Prussia just sighed, looking away. "But I didn't start this! It's _Poland_ who declared war on the Teutonic Order, Poland and the Prussian Estates!"  
" _Now_ it is," Brandenburg agreed, narrowing her dark eyes at her younger cousin, looking both angry and worried. "But _you_ started plenty! Why? A country that does not wage war cannot live, I know that. But a country that does not know peace cannot live long. You will kill yourself like this, Prussia. Mark my words, war will end you one day."  
Prussia gritted his teeth at her words and got up, straightening his back so he looked as tall as her. "You don't know me, Brandenburg," he muttered through clenched jaws. "You don't know me at all. You've seen me only a handfull of times, and none of those times have you seen me on the battlefield!"  
"No, but I did see you shortly after your battles!" Brandenburg protested then, raising her voice. "You were hurt, Prussia, and you were sick! You haven't even fully recovered from all the troubles you've had this century -you might get yourself killed if you wage war against Poland now!"  
"When did you learn to predict the future?" Prussia challenged then, not waiting for an answer as he went on angrily: "It was _war_ that gave birth to me, Brandenburg, and it will be _war_ that will make me great! I might as well not be Germania's son, but _Ares'!_ Ares, the great God of War! I was born to fight and born to win." He raised his voice for everyone to hear then, and he himself didn't even know whether that was intentional or not. But everyone, _everyone on this damned planet_ should know just who he was, and he'd let them know _right this moment._ "I'm a knight, Brandenburg. I'm a single knight with the strength of an army, and one day I will be invincible."  
Brandenburg stared at him in shock, silent for a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes in a glare and disgust shone in her blue irises. "You've a sick mind, Prussia," she muttered softly. "If it is true what you say, and you were born to wage war against others, then you were still wrong about one thing: that wouldn't make you the son of Ares, but of _Hades._ At least Ares knew when to stop killing. I never wanted to believe what the people said about you, Prussia," she added then, taking a step closer to him threateningly, "but the more I hear you talk now, the more I realise that the people were right all along. You're a demon, Prussia."  
The red-eyed country only grinned at her. "Isn't that what we all are? We're angels and we're demons, dear cousin. With every beat of my heart I have served God, but at the same time I was destined by the Lord to conquer and kill. It is in the nature of a knight to _humbly follow orders from above._ " He turned around then and walked away. Just before leaving the room, he halted, though he didn't look back as he spoke. "You will see, Brandenburg. I may win this war or I may lose it, but it will not end me. War can never end me." Then he left, leaving his cousin and the humans to stare after him.

He didn't leave the castle yet, wandering around through the halls, pondering. Maybe he'd gone too far, but he would _never_ let anyone tell him he couldn't do this. He could do anything. He knew with all his heart that, while it hurt him and losses weakened him greatly for some time, fighting was truly all he could do to survive in this world. He wouldn't fight so much if he had any other choice, but with other countries around him like this, greater and stronger than he was, he sometimes felt like a cornered animal. And it were cornered animals that were the first to lash out and the most dangerous of all. What could he do but show them his strength and fearlessness in battle? "Nothing," he mumbled to himself, answering his question. "This is all I can do. And I'm happy to do it."  
Straying onto the castle grounds, he spotted a chapel and decided to go there for the time being. To his relief, there was no one inside at the moment. He needed the silence and solitude to think right now. This serence place finally helped him calm down again, and he grabbed a large, burning candle to lit some smaller ones that had gone out when he walked in, letting in a breeze as he had opened the door. He felt the heat of the small flames on his face as he stood there, staring at the altar. With a sigh, Prussia knelt down and closed his eyes. "Please," he whispered after a little while. "Please, just help me. I don't know what to do anymore. I... I don't know _what I am_ anymore." He could only wonder now if his prayers for help and clarity were heard, but if he didn't try they would never be. "Am I supposed to lose my place as Prussia? A-am I just the Teutonic Order... a wandering order? Is that the reason You make me fight so many battles?" He had to know, though he didn't expect to get an answer to his questions. "To drive me from the land that isn't mine? Is that it? I don't know anymore..." He sighed deeply and leaned against the cold marble of the altar then, shivering for only a moment. A few minutes passed as he sat there in silence like that, waiting for a response, when he suddenly heard a sound, quickly coming closer to him. His eyes shot open as he recognised the sound as a bird's wings flapping. The animal flew right over to him and landed on his knee without hesitation. Prussia stared at it for a moment, then tentatively reached out to it. The bird didn't move when he softly touched its feathers, and almost leaned into his hand as he petted it. Now there was his answer: whatever he did, at least he wouldn't be alone. He wasn't a monster, either. if he were, this tiny, vulnerable animal would've been terrified of him and fled. It wouldn't even have come near him. Birds didn't act like this, they never did. _What can it be, but a sign from God?_ he wondered with a smile. He took a deep breath, feeling calm and happy again now, reassured that he wasn't alone.

He stayed there for a while. The young country wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard voices outside, but it was a long time. "Brandenburg, you said yourself, that boy is a demon!" came the voice of a human.  
"I was angry when I said that!" his cousin replied -still sounding angry. "He's not. He's _really_ not, he's just... I don't know..." He could hear Brandenburg sigh then. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but something is. I wonder if it is because of his origins that he is like this? He's always been different from the rest of us in that one respect..."  
Prussia gritted his teeth listening to this. So he was different from 'them'? 'They' were probably all the other countries on this planet. He opened his eyes then, looking up at Brandenburg, who had just entered the chapel and was approaching him carefully. She looked startled when he suddenly moved like that, and he figured she must've thought he'd been asleep or something. "Why does everyone think I'm so different from the other countries?" he asked her softly, a slight quiver making its way into his voice, though he couldn't tell himself whether it was one of anger or something else.  
Brandenburg stared at him for a moment in silence then looked away guiltily. "I-I thought you hadn't heard that..." She looked at Prussia for a moment longer, saw the look in his eyes as he stared up at him, then turned to the human who had come here with her. "Leave us alone, please. This is between me and my cousin." The human only gave a small bow to his country and then left silently. Brandenburg then sighed and sat down in front of Prussia. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "F-for calling you a demon earlier... and for talking about you behind your back like this."  
Prussia didn't respond immediately, only pulled up his knees and placed his chin on them. "And I'm sorry for yelling at you like that," he mumbled in response. "I went too far with that..."  
"You did," Brandenburg agreed with a short nod. "You shouldn't talk like that, Prussia. I understand that you don't want people to think you're weak, but saying you love war so much, love to kill and love to fight, will make them think you're the devil."  
Those words struck deeper than Prussia thought they would, and he had to bite his lip to stay quiet. Brandenburg noticed, though, and he knew that, so he gave up quite quickly. "No matter what I do to fit in with the world," he choked out softly, "it's never enough! E-even you think I'm _different._ Why do I have to be the only one who's so different?" Right then a sob made it past his lips, and ashamed, he looked away. "I don't want to be alone all the time!" Brandenburg then put her arms around him, silently holding him like that, that single motion warming his heart. "Y-you're still my ally, right?" Prussia asked her softly, trying to relax. "We... we're friends, right?"  
Nodding, Brandenburg answered, "Why did you even think you were alone? You have me, you have Holy Rome... you're friends with Hungary, right? I know you don't see the rest of the family that often, but the majority of them speak positively about you. You're not alone, Prussia. Never."  
Suddenly Prussia remembered the bird, which had flown off him a little while earlier. He looked up over Brandenburg's shoulder, and saw the animal still sitting on the altar, staring down at them. The young country smiled for a moment, then closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Brandenburg, hugging her back. What more did he need? He really wasn't alone.

 _23 February 1454_

 _Okay, yesterday I was being really unawesome, and I'd like to forget anything that happened that day. I'm on my way back to Marienburg now, my deals with Brandenburg done. Now I've got all the time to focus on my war against Poland. But I must say, so far it feels like the Prussians are doing well in driving out the Order..._  
 _Damn it all._

* * *

Days later, Prussia cringed as he sat on his horse, alarming the knights around him. "Is something the matter, Prussia?" one of them asked, coming to ride a bit closer to him.  
Prussia didn't answer, focusing on his breathing, trying to locate the centre of the pain that was radiating in his body. When pain struck with a second wave, he realised with a shiver that is was very close to his heart. "They're at Marienburg!" he choked out, clenching his jaws and urging his horse to run faster. They were so close now, maybe they could fight them off if they arrived in time. His knights took a moment longer to respond, but they were racing after him a heartbeat later. Minutes passed before Marienburg Castle came into view on the other side of the river seperating Prussia and his knights from their capital now, and to his utter rage, he saw it surrounded by his non-Teutonic people, and there were some carrying the red banner with the white eagle -Poland's.  
"We will not lose our capital," he growled with clenched jaws, reaching for his sword. But he didn't grab it yet. These were his people, minus the Poles among them as well, maybe he could reason with them. The war had only recently been declared and it wasn't going to last long. Maybe he could stop it right now, before things got out of hand. He stopped his horse for a moment, and the animal snorted loudly as it stopped running. The knights followed their country's example, silent as they waited for orders. "We'll try to do this peacefully, men," Prussia told them after a long, uncomfortable silence. "These are our people. Our kin." Then he moved forward, slower now, trying to look the least threatening he could. Closer to his capital's castle now, he could see the one things he'd expected already: there was no way for the Prussians and Poles to cross the river now and attack the city, but neither was there for him and his knights. He wanted to turn around and leave for another city instead, but with a jolt of fear he realised the army had seen him and the knights already, and they had to be quick as the wind if they wanted to get away now -there were only five of them against an army of the Prussian Confederation. He knew he had been right about one thing in his tirade to Brandenburg: he was a single knight with the strength of an army. But even he recognised a hopeless battle when he saw one.  
"Retreat!" he commanded his people immediately. "Quickly, get away from here!" Sensing the danger, their horses turned and fled already before he'd even finished his command, running away in wild panic. Terror gripped his heart as he felt another strong jolt of pain in his chest, and he wondered how this siege would end and how long it would last before it ended. The last siege on Marienburg had hurt him so bad, he didn't want to go through anything like it ever again. And here he was, doing exactly that. He coudl hear the horses' hooves drumming on the ground as they ran, but he knew they wouldn't be fast enough. He'd already seen arrows fly past them and he knew the Prussian Confederation had crossbows. It was only a few seconds after they'd turned and fled that he heard a choked cry behind him, followed by the terrified whinnying of a horse and a dull thud on the ground.  
"Sir!" one of his knights called to him. "They hit Albert!"  
"I know," Prussia choked out, having trouble breathing. "God rest his noble soul, but we have to go on!"  
But when the second knight was struck down seconds later, the young country commanded the remaining two to go to another castle as quick as they could -he would go back and make sure they could get away.  
"Sir, you can't do that!" they both told him. "They-!"  
"They cannot kill me," Prussia insisted. " _You_ , however, are mortal! It's your lives that are at stake here, not mine. Now go!" The two knights looked dissatisfied with their country's decision to say the least, but they didn't dare to ignore his order. Prussia turned around then, quickly apologising to his horse for the painful death that probably awaited the animal. Prussia was already having trouble sitting straight: the siege was beginning to hurt real bad, or maybe it was just that he was out of breath. Either way, his chest felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly something grayish-brown flashed before him, and his horse stopped abruptly and reared in shock, throwing Prussia off its back before fleeing. Grunting in pain, Prussia sat up and stared up at what had blocked his way. Poland sat on a horse, standing between him and the people of the Prussian Confederation, a sword in his hand. Prussia expected the weapon to pierce his chest any second now, or hurt him so that Poland could take him captive again like he did the first time he'd lain siege on Marienburg. But instead of any of those things, Poland only looked at him with a burning green gaze. "Go!" he said quickly. "Prussia, go into the forest, they won't be able to track you down so easily there!"  
Scrambling to his feet, Prussia could only stare at him, choking out random sounds. Poland was telling him to go? H-he was letting him _go_?  
"Well?" the older country urged him on. "What are you waiting for? _Run!_ " Green eyes locked with red for a split second, then Poland turned his horse a bit, with his side to Prussia. The young country immediately understood what he was doing: in the cover of the trees' shadows and partly hidden behind the large horse, Prussia could run with little chance of the Prussian Confederation spotting him. And in the meantime, Poland could pretend he was attacking Prussia by simply swinging his sword in his direction.  
"Thank you," Prussia said hoarsely, turning around and running away. Glancing over his shoulder quickly before he'd lose sight of Poland, he saw the older country stare at him approvingly. He understood why Poland would do this: he had told Prussia that he didn't like to fight others, let alone killing them. But with the Prussian Confederation this hellbend on driving out the Teutonic Order, he might be forced to kill Prussia if the younger country was captured. They would probably never be friends, but Prussia figured he and Poland were both sick and tired of being each other's enemies.

But where should he go now? In the weeks that he had been away, traveling to Brandenburg, staying there for some time for the treaty then traveling back again, he knew the Teutonic Order must've lost settlements to the Prussians: he'd felt it happen.  
Then, with a cold shiver going down his spine as he ran, he realised he wasn't even sure if it had been the Teutonic Order's losses. Who could guarantee that it hadn't been the Prussians'? The Teutonics and the Prussians were both his people now. How could either side of this conflict win the battle with him pulling through unharmed?  
Wasn't that just impossible?  
"God, please help me," he whispered in terror as he fled from his own people.

* * *

 **Civil wars and such always seem hardest to me for the countries. Their own people turning against each other... must be horrible.  
Now this isn't exactly a civil war, but it's still his two peoples fighting each other, so it must be pretty damn painfull, confusing and scary for him...**

 **And can I just say it was about time Prussia got a hug from someone? We all know Holy Rome is a dear to him (and since the last chapter, we all know why as well) but others can sometimes (read: most of the time) still be assholes to him... _*cough* like he is to them *cough*_... and I figured he could do with a friendly gesture from someone else than big bro for a change. So have a friendlier-than-usual Brandenburg.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!  
(Also, this is my last week in school before christmas holidays, so maybe then I'll update more than once a week? We'll see...)**


	13. Chapter 13

**To make up for the time it took to write this, I present to you: a longer chapter.**

 **Sorry, I didn't start writing until Tuesday. Last weekend was hell, what with people dying, beloved cats dying, a computer giving me a heart attack by nearly crashing (my poor laptop is getting old...) and news of more people dying sometime in the future...**

 **So yeah. I started really late with this. But it's 8 pages long, which is 2 or 3 longer than usual.**

 **TheBlueAcid, Abc and Awesomely Random, thanks for the kind reviews! Whynot187 and OtakuAddict 7, thanks for the favourites and follow!**

* * *

Prussia sighed as he sat on the walls around Marienburg castle. The siege on it had ended in a victory for the Teutonic Order, but only after half a year. Longer, even, but not much. It had hurt him so much. But at least he didn't have to worry about Marienburg anymore right now. Not yet.  
He had tried to talk with some of the Prussians, but they didn't want him anywhere near them. They believed the Teutonic Order had mistreated them, and to them, Prussia wasn't Prussia: he was the Teutonic Order State. He had tried to tell them he represented them as well, as much as he did the Teutonic Order, but they wouldn't listen. So he was now left with no choice but to fight on the Knights' side now. At least that meant he was getting support from a family member as well.

Almost as if on cue, he got a firm pat on the back, startling him. "Cheer up, Prussia!" Saxony said as he sat down beside his little brother. Or cousin. Or whatever, really. Things were never really clear within their family, in the absence of a parent who could tell them who were his kids and who weren't. But Prussia had decided to call those he was closest to his siblings, except Brandenburg, because she had first introduced herself as his cousin. Saxony was fun enough to be around: the tall, well-muscled country had a rougher personality like Prussia himself, and loved to joke around. Though he was serious on the battlefield, he liked to joke even about war when he wasn't fighting. Life itself was a joke to him, but not in the bad way. It was refreshing, actually. Right now he was grinning at Prussia sheepishly, his brown eyes twinkling. "You know it won't be so bad, right?" he tried to reassure the younger country. This teenager was one of the older one's in the family, a century older than Holy Rome. There was something about him that made Prussia feel safe, though he refused to admit to needing reassurance from someone like that.  
Prussia just nodded in response, though he didn't say anything. 'It won't be so bad' was a horrible lie that he couldn't get over his lips now. It would be so bad. The Teutonic Order had no strength left. The great Battle of Grunwald had been a decisive blow to them, then and now. It had robbed them of the military strength they had then and which they would never get back anymore. Still, Prussia didn't feel like he was slowly dying, like the Teutonic Order essentially was. It was another confirmation that he represented both the Teutonics and Prussia, and another confirmation that he was fighting his people in this war.  
He was glad Saxony was supporting him now, along with some other Holy Roman territories. Denmark, too, and the Livonian Order, now that they had put their conflict aside again, were supporting the Teutonics. And then, of course, there was Amsterdam sending troops.  
Netherlands, the representator of his city and its forces, was standing behind his two cousins now, staring at them nervously. "What are you doing on the edge of the wall?" he asked in slightly broken German. But with Saxony here, who spoke a completely different dialect of the language than Prussia, the Prussian had learned to understand his own language in every form or shape. He also spoke Dutch now, to a certain extent, so at least communication wasn't an issue anymore between him and the little boy. He wondered what Netherlands was doing here, though: he didn't want such a young child to fight, even though he'd been younger himself when he'd fought alongside his knights.  
"We're just sunning ourselves," Saxony answered with a smile, not looking at the young country. Of course they weren't: Prussia couldn't do anything like that. His pale skin got burned a lot faster than that of any of the others. He couldn't stay up here in the bright sunlight much longer, actually, if he didn't want to get a burn like he always did on the battlefield in the spring or the summer.  
Netherlands, now a boy of roughly 7 years old after he'd had a growth spurt since becoming the Burgundic Netherlands, French territory and a fief to the Holy Roman Empire, inched closer to them carefully. He was terrified of heights, and Prussia found it impressive that he was here in the first place. The boy was still just that: a child. Prussia was round and about 13 now, though he guessed he wouldn't grow up until the war was over at least. Or at all, if he wouldn't survive it, which was a real possibility. Netherlands let out a yelp as he saw Prussia and Saxony's legs dangling off the edge of the high walls, and he took a startled step back. "That's dangerous!" he squeaked.  
Saxony, as always, just laughed and looked over his shoulder at the boy. "Dangerous?" he echoed. "You mean like this?" He then leaned forward, over the edge of the wall, though he didn't do anything dangerous.  
Still, when Prussia saw Netherlands's terrified gaze, he pushed Saxony back, well away from the edge of the wall. "Knock it off," he scolded the older country. "You're scaring him." He then got up with a sigh and walked away.  
Saxony just grunted in annoyance. "Aw, come one, Prussia!" he whined. "You know it was only a joke! Hell, I don't want to fall off -I'd survive it, and that's the entire problem, since it would leave me with a broken _everything_." Still, Prussia didn't respond. He didn't know what had come over him all of a sudden, but he didn't want to be surrounded by people like this anymore now. "Neddie knows it was only a joke!" Saxony insisted, getting up now, too. "Prussia, for crap's sake, what's the matter with you? Ever since this war started, you haven't been any fun!"  
Now, Prussia stopped and spun around in pure anger, his red eyes blazing with it. "Of course I haven't!" he yelled at his elder brother. "When will you learn-? _Wars aren't any fun!_ "  
Saxony scowled at this, huffing. Then he walked over to Prussia's side, getting a nervous stare from Netherlands as he did so. Prussia just stood motionless as the older country approached him. In front of Prussia, Saxony stopped and leaned down to whisper in his ear in utter seriousness for once. "It doesn't look like that normally," he said to his little brother, brown eyes glinting. "Stop telling lies, Prussia. You've never expressed your disdain for war before, you know? _I know you love it, you little maniac._ " Then the tall German walked away, adding louder: "Something to think about, I suppose. Keep yourself to one truth, and _one_ truth only. No lies."  
Netherlands walked up to Prussia when Saxony had left, but the Prussian himself was frozen to the ground for a few heartbeats. Had Brandenburg told Saxony about Prussia's outburst earlier that year? Surely she wouldn't -they had sworn never to speak of it again. Or was this just the impression he left on people? The thought chilled him to the bone. A maniac? That wasn't who he wanted to be at all! But was he?  
" _Wat zei hij tegen je?_ " Netherlands asked then, forgetting to speak German for a moment.  
Prussia shook his head with a sigh. " _Niks,_ " he answered softly. "Nothing important."  
The young child just nodded, then pulled on his sleeve and stared at him with a look of discomfort. "Can we go down again now?" he asked with a slight quiver in his voice. Prussia just smiled at him and nodded, bending down to pick him up even though he was three-quarters of his own size. Immediately the child struggled and protested, sounding panicked. "Put me down, _put me down!_ " he shrieked, and Prussia listened.  
 _Maybe it's because there is nothing high in his own country,_ he wondered to himself as they walked down the stone stairs. _He isn't used to an altitude higher than the sea!_

* * *

A huge, black eagle soared through the sky, which was coloured milky red by the light of the setting sun. It let out a fearsome shriek, folding its wings against its body and diving down to where another bird flew, a white eagle, bigger than the black one. Its talons outstretched, the black eagle tried to grab the white one, but the bigger animal was too swift. It dodged, turned and flew higher. Letting out a screech of annoyance, the black bird let itself fall back and kept its eyes on his enemy: with the white eagle soaring above him, he knew he was in danger if he didn't create a distance. But the white eagle made no move to attack him. It flew at a swift pace, eyes locked on the horizon. Still, the black creature knew he had no choice but to kill it if he wanted to live. There was only room for one lord in the skies, and it would be _him_. The white bird was faster, bigger and stronger, but there was nothing the black eagle wouldn't do to win this battle. Silent this time, it flew higher again, driving itself right into the talons of the white bird. Attacked from below, the white eagle scratched and tore at the black animal's feathers, leaving deep claw marks and blood seeping from inbetween his wings. But the black eagle thrust its head through those fearsome talons and drove his beak right into the white eagle's chest, paying his own pain no mind. With a screech of pain, the white eagle failed to keep itself airborne and plummeted down from the sky. But in its strong talons, it took the black eagle down with it. The smaller animal, before they would hit the ground, managed to free itself just in time, watching the white eagle fall to the earth and letting itself drop after him. Claws extended, it fell onto the white eagle, tearing at its flesh with talons and beak, tasting its blood with a surge of satisfaction. It kept going until there was scarcely a feather left white, and the once-white, majestic eagle lay lifeless on a background of crimson. Victorious, the black eagle spread its massive wings and rose into the sky once more, shrieking in triumph, blood dripping from every inch of its body.

Prussia sat bolt upright, his breathing coming in quick, shallow gulps. Relieved to find himself in his own bed, in the darkness of his own room in Königsberg, he let himself slowly slide back onto his pillow. His blood-soaked dream had left his heart racing in panic. He knew what the creatures in the dream had represented: the White Eagle of Poland, and the Black Eagle of the Teutonic Order. But what it meant, he had no idea, and he feared he didn't want to know. His own symbol had been victorious in the dream, though. Did that mean he would win the war despite all odds? But he wouldn't: it had lasted more than 12 years now, and the Teutonic Order was losing horribly. Marienburg had been taken from Prussia, and the Teutonic capital had since then been moved to this castle, in Königsberg. It had hurt more than anything before ever had, and had assured Prussia that whatever Poland and the Prussian Confederation wanted to do to him, they would succeed. Prussia had no strength left: he was completely left at the mercy of his opponents now, and he feared they would have little mercy.  
Prussia tried to turn onto his side, but a stab of pain in his chest stopped him, and with a grunt, he relaxed again. His three broken ribs were the reason he wasn't fighting anymore now: with only one, he might've made it, but three were too much even for him. They hadn't been dealt to him by Poland, though, but had been an accident between him and Denmark. The teenager fought with a battle axe, and somewhere during a training session together it had slipped from his grasp and swung hard against Prussia, knocking him to the ground and leaving him with breathing problems all afternoon. Thank God it had only been the blunt side, otherwise he'd have been split in two.

Trying to breathe deeply now, blocking out the pain in his broken chest, Prussia lay thinking. His dream was still so clear in his mind... The Black Eagle of the Teutonic Order tearing Poland's white one apart... It was both terrifying and amazing. Would he win after all?  
Then he realised that he might. He might win, if he went about it the same way the eagle had done in his dream: solitary. Not afraid of harming himself as he took down his enemy. And suddenly he knew what to do.  
Careful with his battered chest, he got up, stumbled out of his bed and gathered his things. For a moment he looked at his white tunic with the black cross, but then he quickly decided to put on the darkest piece of clothing he had. He'd need it. And underneath the dark gray, almost black shirt, he wore his trusted chainmail vest. It seemed to be even heavier on his broken bones now, but nothing he couldn't handle. Lastly he put on a dark cloak and pulled it over his white hair. He fastened a hunting bow and quiver to his back, deciding that a crossbow might be too loud if he used it even once, and then a dagger to his hip: his sword would be too big and clumsy to sneak around with. Then he went outside, to the stables, avoiding the knights that were on guard now. As silently as he could, he climbed onto a black steed, then raced away into the night, only one thing on his mind now.  
 _I have to do this!_

* * *

It took him two full days to reach the place where he knew Poland would be now: an old castle of his, captured by the Prussians and the Polish. That he knew the way helped him greatly, and it was hardly an effort to get into the castle unseen. Once inside, he passed a mirror, and was shocked to see how much even his hands stood out against his dark clothes and the shadows inside the building. He just grabbed the first torch he saw and rubbed the cold ashes onto his skin. Checking again in the mirror, he could now only see his own red eyes glinting in the darkness. _Perfect._ But even so, he'd managed to get through only two more hallways until he heard something sailing through the air quickly, and a split second later he felt something piercing his back. He just about managed to stay quiet as he looked down, seeing the blood soaked end of an arrow sticking out of his abdomen. It hurt so bad. Still, he gritted his teeth and turned around swiftly. There was a guard there, just shooting his second arrow now. That one only grazed Prussia's thigh, but he hissed under his breath as he grabbed his own bow in a single, swift movement and killed the man with one arrow straight through the heart.  
With trembling fingers, he looked down at the arrow piercing his body again and grabbed the iron tip of it, breaking it off. The jolt it sent through his abdomen nearly had him doubling over, if that wouldn't have hurt even more with the object still lodged in his flesh. He moved his left hand to his back and put his right on the broken-off tip of the arrow's shaft now, grabbing the end of it behind his back. He took a deep breath, and another one, then pulled the arrow out of his body in a swift motion. He had to grit his teeth in order to stay quiet, and his vision flashed black and white for a moment in pain. But this wound would heal, and he knew it couldn't kill him. His main concern now was that he'd have a hard time staying quiet when he was in this much pain, and that he would leave a trail of blood as he walked.  
 _Worth the risk,_ he told himself as he continued on, nearly stumbling a few times. _It's all worth the risk._ He saw again his dream of the mighty black eagle hunting down his enemy, ready to have harm befall itself so long as it would win the battle. And here he was, hunting the white eagle that had made his life so difficult for a century already.

Plenty of time had passed before he'd found Poland for his wound to heal a bit: he wasn't in so much pain anymore, and he didn't think he was still bleeding. That would make it all the easier to finish his job here, something that would help him win the war after all.  
Poland was sound asleep, and Prussia felt a twinge of anger at himself for even considering to attack someone like this. But at the thought of leaving now, he felt only an overwhelming fear. He would lose the war for sure like that! This was his only chance, and he had to take it.  
But the closer he got to Poland, the more the older coutnry began to stir in his sleep, and after five steps, he jolted awake. In shock, Prussia stumbled backward, staring at his enemy wide-eyed. Poland had the same wide, shocked stare, then he narrowed his eyes. "Red eyes can only belong to one person," he muttered angrily. "Prussia, like... what are you doing here?"  
Prussia gritted his teeth, grabbing his dagger. "Winning the war."  
He darted forward with the weapon raised to stab Poland, but the distance was too great, which left Prussia too slow to actually harm him. Instead, Poland dodged to the side and gave Prussia a hard kick against the wrist. His half asleep state didn't do his fighting skills any good, however, and he only just managed to disarm Prussia. The blonde country let out a yelp of shock when Prussia jumped on him, pinning him to the floor and pummeling him with his fists. He needed some time to recover from that shock, but when he did, he managed to writhe free from Prussia's grasp. Prussia twisted to pin him down again, but received a strong kick to the abdomen, which seemed to blast open his earlier wound. He gasped for breath for a moment, only a moment, but a moment that lasted long enough for Poland, dazed by sleep and the many punches he'd gotten as he was, to overpower him. He grabbed Prussia by the shoulders and pushed him down, placing his knee on his chest. It was like he was knowingly taking advantage of all the younger country's earlier wounds, because he was certain he could feel one of his still-weak ribs snap again.  
"What do you mean, 'winning the war'?!" Poland exclaimed, coughing once, clearly in pain. "Assassination? That won't win the war for you!" Noticing how much it hurt Prussia, he pressed his knee down a little harder, eliciting a hiss of pain from the white-skinned country. Poland looked too angry to care, and Prussia couldn't blame him. "You didn't think killing me would get you anywhere, did you? Because killing me would be a total disaster! Not only would you kill me, but you would make me... like... a martyr! And besides," he added, "the Teutonic Knights have already lost. The sooner you lot surrender, the easier you'll make it on yourselves."  
Prussia only gritted his teeth, glaring at him. "You'll never end the Teutonic Order," he muttered darkly. "You'll never end _me_!"  
But a certain quiver must have made its way into his voice, for Poland's grip on him slackened, though his greater length and weight still pinned Prussia to the floor. "That's it, then?" he asked, softer now. "You're afraid to die..."  
Those words hit close to home to Prussia. A little too close. All his life, he had only been able to wonder which war would be his last, despite his 'bravado', as it had often been called, his apparent love for battle and war. But in truth, the most honest truth, he had been terrified through every heartbeat of his battles. He knew he wasn't strong enough to fight the battles he did, he wasn't influential enough to make the claims he did. He was hardly a real country, and he was acting like he was the strongest of all! And he knew with all his heart that he could one day _be_ that, but for that to happen, he had to survive until that day. He wasn't making that the easiest task for himself now, doing this. Even in his dream, the black eagle had acted out of fear, he realised now. Fear that the white one would overtake him and end his existence purely through _existing._  
Like he did now.  
Poland just sighed. "Damn, Prussia, you're a totally messed up kid, you know that?" He stared down at the younger boy, then huffed and let go of him. Or at least, so it seemed. The moment he stood up and Prussia tried to move, he stomped down hard onto his left wrist, and Prussia could feel his bones crunching underneath his foot. "Just so you won't be attacking me again," Poland told him then. "I noticed you're a lefty like... back in 1410 or something? 'Course you can fight with right as well, but I suppose I can leave that wrist in one piece now? I assume you got the message."  
"I-I did..." Prussia choked out, trying to move his fingers but stopping when it set horrible pain through his hand and wrist. He also didn't want to sit up now, with his freshly broken rib and without a doubt a few good bruises. His abdomen still hurt as well, from the arrow. Poland said something else to him, lecturing him for his actions, and with a wry smile he thought that Poland was actually acting like a mentor-figure to him, despite being his enemy. Always had. Whenever Prussia did something stupid, Poland would give him just the right punishment, but he was also often merciful. He was really treating him like the fiefdom he was.  
But Prussia also realised he was getting dizzy, which couldn't be a good sign. He tried to move, but was struck with another jab of pain in his abdomen, and he was suddenly aware of the warm liquid seeping out of his back.  
It was hard to see in the darkness, but eventually Poland, too, noticed the dark stain on his floor, growing under Prussia. "Is that... blood?" he wondered out loud as he leaned down and dipped his fingers in it. When he saw it drip from his fingertips after, his eyes widened. "I didn't do that," he mumbled, half to himself. "I.. I didn't do that... so how-?" Prussia then grunted in pain as he tried to move once more, but he just couldn't without feeling like he was tearing his own insides apart with the motion. "Fuck... Hang on now, Prussia, don't move!" Poland ordered him, starting to look more distressed with the second now. "And don't you dare fall asleep now! You've got to stay awake, you hear me?"  
But Prussia was having trouble breathing by now. If he breathed high up, in his chest, it hurt his ribs. If he breathed lower, to his belly, he got that tearing-feeling again. Either way it hurt, and he would've prefered to just stop altogether. Poland noticed and knelt down beside him, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a firm shake. "Stay awake, I said! You damn little troublemaker... Just when I _want_ you to stay alive, you go and totally bleed out on me! Fuck you, Prussia, seriously! You gotta stay alive, alright? You're my territory, for God's sake! _I don't want you to die!_ "  
Prussia didn't even hear the end of it. His consciousness left his body as quickly as his blood did.

* * *

 _20 October 1466_

 _Another war lost, another treaty signed._  
 _The Second Peace of Thorn, signed yesterday in that city, has left what are perhaps the greatest changes in my life so far, namely the division of my land. Eastern Prussia now belongs to Poland, and was renamed Royal Prussia. The Western part of me is free, though still a fief to Poland, under Teutonic control as it has always been. Since Prussia is now essentially two countries, I expected there to be a new personification for Royal Prussia, but it hasn't showed up yet. Maybe it's because both sides of Prussia are under Polish rule, though differently?_  
 _Despite the outcome of this war, I cannot be angry at Poland. He aided people when they asked for his help. Like the Teutonic Order should have done... Not only that, I also owe him my life, several times. He let me escape 13 years ago, he has avoided meeting me in battle deliberately, and when I came to kill him last year and all went wrong, he saved my life again. The kick to my stomach did re-open the arrow wound, and since I hadn't regenerated all of the blood I had lost earlier yet, it went wrong faster than I could've imagined._

 _I realise now that Brandenburg was right. And Saxony and Poland and everyone else. They were all right about me._  
 _I love to fight too much. Maybe I am a maniac, like Saxony said. Maybe I do not have the strength to fight the battles I do, like Poland told me. And at this rate, war_ _will_ _be the death of me, exactly like Brandenburg predicted it would._  
 _I know I am capable of greatness. But to get there, I need to survive long enough._  
 _So that's it, then._  
 _No more wars for me._

Prussia walked through the halls of Königsberg Castle, dressed not in his Teutonic attire, but in the simplest tunic he could find among his small collection of clothes. His white, Teutonic mantle was folded neatly in his hands, his sword and black-crossed shield on top of it. His steps echoed through the stone halls, and he tried to block out the sound of his own footsteps. As determined as he was to do this, it was the second life-changing thing to happen to him in two days, and he felt like he was losing a piece of himself as he did this. But, he was certain, as he lost this part of himself, a new part would be discovered.  
He couldn't fight anymore. Not after the many wars he'd gone through, the horrible things he'd done or almost done. He knew that if he kept going like this, there would be a little corner in Hell with his name on it. If there was ever a moment to turn his life around, this was it. No more fighting. It was about time he calmed down a little.

Entering the room where the Grand Master was right now, he gave a small bow, as polite as he could with the two heavy items he held in his hands. The human looked up, surprised. "Prussia, boy," he greeted his country in confusion. "What is it?"  
Prussia didn't say anything, only went to stand before his Grand Master, got down on one knee and placed his Teutonic attire, the shield and the sword on the ground in front of him. "I'm done," he said softly. "I quit."  
"Get up, child," the human then ordered, sounding confused and angry. Prussia listened, staring up at him in silence. "You quit... what?" the Grand Master demanded, narrowing his eyes.  
Without even blinking, Prussia answered calmly: "I quit being a knight."  
"You _what?_ " the man belowed. "You're the best we have! You're our _country!_ You cannot just _quit_ being a knight, Prussia, it's in your blood and in your soul! It's who you are. Accept it."  
"I'll decide for myself who I am," Prussia answered, not losing his calm, though he had to fight not to yell in anger and desperation. He didn't want to do this! But even less did he want to fight ever again. Or... ever? For a while at least. He needed some time to think. "I'll decide who I am," he repeated, "and I'll decide when I'm ready to accept my identity." He then turned around and walked away, if only to not have to look at his leader anymore as the man tried to convince him otherwise.  
"Prussia," he insisted, "the path of a knight is a noble one. It has earned you the respect of your people. Surely you don't want to throw all that away and become an outcast again?"  
"Even the noblest of knights can live only one lifetime before becoming a common murderer," Prussia answered, standing still but not looking back. "I have lived several. I cannot deny that I'm a sinner, and I wish to atone for my sins. And if my people can only respect me for my strength in battle, then I wish to not be respected at all. I wish for them to respect me for the person I am, not for my skills with a sword!"  
"And what are you planning to do now?" the human kept on protesting, though Prussia could hear in his voice that he knew he could not change the boy's mind. "Find a job, live a simple life as a farmer? You know such a life is not for your kind, if not because of what you are, then because of your skin and eyes."  
Anger welled up in Prussia at those words. No Teutonic Knight had made comments about his skin or eyes or haircolour all century! How could he have been so naive as to think they had finally accepted him? He was still the odd one out in their eyes. Now, he looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowed in anger, though he managed to keep his voice calm. "I'll join the monastery," he declared. "Monks will have no choice but to accept me, despite what I look like. And what better way to pay for my sins, than to serve God? Goodbye."  
With those words, he walked away, ignoring anything else the human said to him. He had made his decision: he would join the church and not fight again. He had realised some time ago that his dream about the eagles had been a sign of a different kind than he'd thought. It had been to show the monster he was becoming to save his own hide. And he would never let that happen to him.  
This was all he knew he could do to prevent it.

* * *

 **Remember priest Prussia? He appeared in one or two episodes... Well, you're getting him! Let's not forget, this was stated in his character bio as well: "After getting beaten up by Poland and Lithuania, he calmed down a lot, living as a sort of vassal to Poland" or something like that... Well, and he met with Hungary in a nice priest-y outfit once. So here's my interpretation of that.**

 **And a new introduction down! Saxony. He loves to joke arund but can get bloody serious as well. Very strong, rough guy.  
And yes, Netherlands is afraid of heights, due to there not being anything high over here. (We have a 'mountain' close to where I live! It's a staggering 60-somewhat metres high XD)**

 **And yes, Poland is a sweetheart sometimes... Don't get him wrong, he and Prussia still hate each other. But with that much more life experience than Prussia, Poland isn't the type to kill or watch others die. He'll fight back if he has to, knows how to punish and torture those who 'deserve it' but prefers to keep even his enemies alive.**

 **Well, I hope you liked it, and Merry Christmas to everyone!**


	14. Chapter 14

**The magic of holidays... allows one to write a lot faster (when there's no bad stuff going on that is)**

 **Awesomely Random, TheBlueAcid and Le Cinnamon Bun, thanks for the reviews! noticemesenpai27, thanks for the follow and favourite!**

 **Some have mentioned it in early chapters, and I'll just say it now: I'm sorry, but I do stick with only Italy Romano and Veneziano. The German states are giving me enough of a headache! Heh heh... so, sorry 'bout that!**

 **And yeah... Priest Prussia probably won't last long.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _1 January 1510_

 _A new decade in the new century has begun! Hopefully with fewer wars than a century ago._  
 _How could I have expected the Thirteen Year's War to be the last, just because I didn't fight anymore? The War of the Priests was bad, and so was any that came after it. But at least Poland and I are on relatively good terms now. Life as a vassal, a fief, isn't so bad once you stop resisting the overlord's rule. Still, I'd like to be completely independent and be a true country, but that day will come. Poland can't keep ruling over me forever._  
 _Might I just add -? Thank God I'm allowed to write with my left hand in my journal! Even after over 40 years, I just can't get the hang of writing with my right hand, but the other monks can't get over the fact that I sometimes smear the ink a bit when I write with left. So what if I do? It's still perfectly legible._

 _Saxony still jokes about me being a priest now. Says I probably preach the teachings of Ares instead of God's. Well, screw him. At least Austria was normal about it when he visited! Well... more normal than Saxony, that is. But he did come all the way to Prussia to see me the moment he heard rumours, so I suppose he was surprised (I still hate his sissy guts). Brandenburg can't seem to get used to it, Holy Rome... he just misses our play-fights, I suppose. Those always did cheer him up whenever he came here._

 _So many things have changed in the world, I sometimes wonder if they're right and I should just get out of the church. But 4 decades of serving the Lord can't possibly make up for 3 centuries of bloodshed! I can't leave yet, can I?_  
 _I do really want to go to the New World that has been discovered some years ago. I heard of the people living there -barbarians- and I suppose the countries could use a priest! Someone needs to baptise the lot of them, from the stories I heard. But how would I know? I've been stuck here, writing books, giving sermons... I do really miss the freedom of being a knight._  
 _But I haven't lost all freedom yet -I'm leaving for Rome soon, when the weather allows easier travel. And from Rome, I will go to Western Europe before heading back to Prussia. Poland has allowed this pilgrimage, which will take me until next year at the very least. I'm looking forward to seeing more of the world, even if it isn't the New World. Not yet._

Prussia just had to be honest. He hated traveling by foot. Crossing all of Europe on _foot_? That was crazy and impossible, but he did it. At least now, in this blaing hot summer, he was in Italy and nearly in Rome, where he would be able to stay for a few weeks before going on the return journey. Most of all, though, he hated the season. Summer in Italy! He had forgotten what it was like. And now that he was on the road, he couldn't get as much shade as he could when he'd lived on Sicily with Holy Rome for a few years. He felt like he could start peeling his skin off any moment now. He was burned to a crisp by now.  
At least, he hoped, meeting Italy Romano would be worth it. The last city he'd been in, he'd heard of the immortal living in Rome, and he'd sent a message ahead of him to announce his arrival in the near future. He'd received one back, stating he was welcome. Romano didn't sound too welcoming despite his words, though, but he could live with that. So long as he could meet a new country, he was okay with anything. Nothing could be as bad as the past months had been! _And I've dealt with un-awesome, annoying asses before_ , he thought, then sighing. He'd been told he was too easily aggravated to be a priest, and maybe the monks had been right. But he hadn't fought at all! Except maybe those few punches here and there, but only when people were just _begging_ to have their noses broken. He did still work out every other day or so, to keep up his strength, should he need to fight again someday. He couldn't let himself be weakened even if he hadn't lifted a weapon in ages.

At last he stumbled into Rome, managed to get through the busy streets and arrive where Italy Romano had told him he would be waiting. It took him a bit to recognise him in the mass of people, but eventually the young country figured he couldn't be anyone else but that grumpy-looking pre-teen glancing around with unfriendly green eyes. And when he walked up to him, he turned out to be right.  
"Good God," Romano muttered upon seeing him. "Shouldn't you travel only at night or something?"  
"If that was an option," Prussia grumbled, feeling his face hot with sunburn. "Or only in the winter..."  
Romano inspected him a moment longer, in a mixture of shock, pity and most of all disgust. "Right," he said then with an exasperated sigh. "Let's get you somewhere inside with a lot of shade. And you're going to stay there until that sunburn has healed. Dear God, I don't think I can stand to look at it much longer than a day, bastard." He then grabbed Prussia's arm and pulled him along. Prussia just let him: he didn't know where they were going, he was exhausted, hungry and pissed off at the sun. Romano's behaviour was exactly as he'd expected it to be after the letter he received: rude, grumpy and not very nice. _Like me at the moment. Awesome!_ eh thought sarcastically, though he couldn't deny the twinge of excitement in his heart at meeting another country for the first time. Meanwhile Romano talked to him a bit more, but as little as he apparently could. "I have two other visitors over at the moment," he told Prussia. "They came a few days ago. I think you've met both before. When I mentioned you to them, they both seemed to know you. My little brother Veneziano and Hungary."  
 _Hungary!_ What was she doing here? Then he reminded himself that Hungary was actually pretty good friends with both Italies, though especially Veneziano. _What a lovely couple they'd make,_ he though with a smirk. _The girl who thought she was a boy, and the boy who dressed as a girl until recently._ Then he felt a small spark of fear as well. _Hungary? She doesn't even know yet about me giving up my position as a knight!_ He was pretty sure the rumours about him had reached her ears already like they had Austria's years ago, but they hadn't seen each other since halfway through the Thirteen Year's War. He just hoped she could leave the nasty comments and jokes out of it. She was still his best friend, even if they hardly ever saw each other.

It was a walk of about ten minutes until they reached Romano's house, and the moment the older country walked in and announced his return home, Veneziano came running. The boy was older now than when Prussia had first met him, but still a little bit younger than the red-eyed country was physically. This was something he could probably never get used to: Italy Veneziano, though younger than Romano, was still almost twice Prussia's age, but hadn't developed as much. Then again, it was probably due to their environment. Prussia had to fight to survive from the moment he was born, Italy Veneziano had it a lot easier than that. And since the start of what the people called the Renaissance many years ago, he'd finally started growing up a bit more. " _Fratello!_ " he greeted his brother happily, swinging his arms around him in a warm hug. Then he spotted the guest as well, and gave him the same greeting. "Prussia! It has been such a long time, hasn't it?"  
Prussia just nodded, feeling very uncomfortable at that moment. "V-veni," he choked out eventually when the Italian wouldn't let go. "Burns. I've got burns _everywhere._ "  
Then Veneziano realised he was probably hurting him, and he quickly let go again. "Riiight... Sorry!" The boy then turned around and called to the living quarters of the house: "Hungary! Miss Hungary, they're here!"  
He didn't even need to say it all before Hungary came around the corner. Prussia couldn't breathe anymore from the moment he saw her: her long, brown hair hung loose over her shoulders, the first time he'd seen her without her ponytail. She had somehow really matured since the last time he'd seen her decades ago, or maybe it was just that she looked so different. She looked like a _girl_ , a real one now. Fine features and a slim but strong body. To top it off, she was wearing a _dress_. She had finally realised what her gender was, then. He couldn't do anything but stare for a moment. The fact that he would see Hungary again all the way over here, outside their own borders, had come as a shock already, but to see her like this made the shock a million times greater.  
 _She's so beautiful..._ he thought absent-mindedly, realising these internal words only seconds later. _Who would've thought a guy could look good in a dress?_ he added quickly, holding back his laughter then and just preventing himself from smirking as she walked up to him.  
"Prussia!" she gasped when she saw his red-and-pink skin. "Whatever did you-? Couldn't you wait until winter?!"  
"That's just what I thought when the season started to become hot," he chuckled, but she didn't seem to notice, for her eyes then fell on something else entirely.  
"What are you wearing?!" she exclaimed then, eyes wide.  
Prussia automatically glanced down at his robes briefly, then looked up again. "Uh... my clothing?"  
"That's _priest_ stuff!"  
"I know. It's mine."  
" _You're a priest!"_ she choked out, staring at him with such wide eyes, Prussia was afraid for a moment they might pop out of their sockets. "But-! You-! What happened to 'I can fight anyone'-Prussia? M-my sparring partner? Hunting buddy? Come on, Prussia, it's not funny!"  
He just shrugged and looked away uneasily. "It's not a joke, so why should it be funny?" He hadn't expected this reaction: if anything, he'd thought she'd laugh at him. But she seemed sad that he wasn't fighting anymore or hunting or any of the things they used to do together. _But you're a girl now,_ he wanted to tell her. _Okay, you always were, but now it's official... it's all changed now._ Still, that didn't stop him from wanting to go back to the old days, too. To the time of before the whole mess of being a country started: just the two of them, fooling around as their knights aided one another in their battles against other peoples. Even then he'd been surrounded by war and battle and bloodshed, he had been from birth, but back then it had been different somehow.  
 _Just like our friendship now will be,_ he thought sadly. _She's a real girl now, and I'm a priest... nothing will ever be the same again._ The two boys they had once been, play-fighting and hunting ducks and rabbits together, were now gone forever.

Later that afternoon, when Veneziano and Hungary asked about it, Prussia explained to them what his plans were: he would visit some holy shrines and churches in Rome, like any pilgrim did, stay with Romano for some time then leave again and continue his pilgrimage to the west.  
"And why did you even do... this?" Hungary then asked after some time. "Why would you give up knighthood in the first place?"  
"I've done too many horrible things in my life," Prussia said simply, not wanting to let her know too much of what he had done to shock himself into doing this. "I've done... unspeakable things, Hungary. I can't count the souls I've sent to the Heavens in my life. So this is my way of making up for it. And I enjoy it," he added, though he couldn't be sure if it was all true. Sometimes he hated it. When people bullied him on the streets (kids his age could be terribly mean to one another, especially to him because of the whole skin-and-eyes thing) he sometimes really wanted to punch them. He actually did, once or twice a year. Once he'd gotten into a really bad fight, a couple of years before. The punisments he got for fighting like that weren't exactly the kindest. And as he'd written in his journal, it annoyed him to no end that the monks wouldn't let him write with his left hand because he would smear the ink that way. But he loved the serenity of his new life as well, though he never failed to miss the excitement of knighthood. But at least now he knew he was doing righteous, good things... well, most of the time.  
Hungary still looked doubtful, but after a moment she got up and walked over to him. Prussia just stared at her, confused, then went rigid with surprise when she leaned down and hugged him. She'd never done that before! His heart pounded against his ribs as the kingdom spoke to him softly. "I'll miss you, you know. My hunting buddy..." He wanted to at least pat her on the back, but he couldn't move. If he had to be honest with himself, deep down, he wanted to hug her back and never let go again. It was warm, and there was a not too uncomfortable pressure on his chest as she held him like that, a strange sensation that he wanted to feel for just a bit longer so that he could figure out what it was. It was nice and warm and comfortable like that. But the hug lasted only a few heartbeats, _his_ heartbeats, to be more precise, and that was beating rapidly now.

* * *

Days went by quickly. Prussia was away most of the days, after Italy Romano had provided him with a cloak to shield his face from the harshest of the sunlight. In the evenings he returned, ate a bit, studied and then went to sleep. That was his life now: he'd always known he was pretty intelligent, but to actually be studying like that now was something else entirely. He had learned more in a few decades than in his whole life before it.  
Italy Veneziano and Hungary were still there as well. After some time, Romano had to leave for a week, and Veneziano had said he'd stay until he returned to make sure nothing happened to his brother's house. Prussia loved to watch him paint in the evenings, and one day, when there had been no clouds in the skies at all and the young Italian had refused to let Prussia leave the house, still thinking back to his awful burns of the first day, Italy had tried to teach him to paint as well. Didn't work out. Prussia just wasn't the artistic type.  
Hungary loved to join him in his studies, much to his surprise. She wasn't interested in all the books he read, but sometimes it seemed like she just liked to study _him_ instead, as though she still had to get used to this new side of him. Prussia just liked her company, though he never got as much done as when she wasn't around. He couldn't concentrate well: one way or the other, he'd end up distracted, usually through conversation with his friend. But sometimes, when she found a passage in the Bible that she did find interesting, for example, she could be so intent on reading it... he liked seeing her like that. He wasn't the only one to have changed.  
He wasn't too pleased with the churches around Rome: it seemed like few of the priests and monks here actually followed the rules. And there was also this strange thing that some people here had thought up. According to people around these parts, one could buy their spot in Heaven. If you had sinned, you could just buy a scrap of paper and you would be forgiven. It worked for the souls of the departed as well, if you bought it in a loved one's name. It lessened the time your soul had to spend in Purgatory or took it away completely, they said. While he _was_ tempted, with the many sins he'd committed in life, he didn't really trust it. He'd never read anything about it. But on the other hand, he couldn't care less. If these people wanted to waste their money like that, then so be it. Let them.

Prussia awoke one night after a restless sleep. He had nights like that very often these days. Most of the time he couldn't remember what he'd dreamt about, and whenever he did, he couldn't figure out which part of it got him tossing and turning like that, for it had been completely normal dreams. This time, like every time, he just got out of bed with a sigh. Some of the night air usually did him a world of good, and then he could sleep in until noon sometimes (another thing that the monks back home did not approve of). So once again he slipped out of the house as quietly as he could, taking a deep breath once he was outside, taking in a fresh breeze. He missed colder climates, actually. He couldn't stand the constant heat down in the mediterranean. Staring at the stars and the night sky, he sighed. People must take him for a vampire around here, hiding from the sunlight in the daytime and mostly coming out at twilight or later, when the sunlight wasn't so harsh and bright. At least no one had attacked him yet. He supposed his outfit and the fact that he wore a rosary helped a lot: according to the stories, neither demons nor vampires could live after seeing a rosary, let alone wear it and survive. _See?_ he wanted to say. _I'm not. I'm just like anyone else, even if I don't look the part. I'm not a monster, either._  
Then, after a few minutes, he went back inside. Passing the door to the room Hungary used now, he stopped with a warm, amused smile. She was snoring again, like she used to back when they were kids. Very softly, very gently, like she was doing her best not to disturb anyone. He opened the door, which was already ajar, a bit further and peeked inside. Nope. Still sleeping like a guy. _There's nothing graceful about that girl,_ he thought with silent laughter. Even if she did wear dresses now (only because the people wouldn't accept her otherwise, she knew now) he had found out quickly enough that she had hardly changed at all, though she had. Only a bit.  
Staring at her like that, he felt that same pressure on his chest again, and the urge to just hold her. Surely that would be okay? A hug never hurt anyone. Quite the contrary, actually, they healed more than they harmed. So quietly, he got a little closer. Damn, she really was pretty though. His dear old friend... _Thank you for everything, Hungary,_ he told her in silence. _I don't know how long Holy Rome would've made me wait if you hadn't told me what I am way back when. Thank you for that, and the centuries that came after it._ He would always treasure their friendship. Hungary had been his first non-human friend, actually the second one overall, after the knight Frederick. And she was one of the few he had now. _How can I ever thank you enough?_ Well, by gracing her with his awesome presence, obviously. He snickered at that thought, then forced himself to be quiet again. But Hungary didn't even stir. She was a much deeper sleeper than Poland, apparently!  
Suddenly she mumbled something, though it was in Hungarian and, even if he did speak the language, it would've been too soft for him to hear. She kept her lips parted just a slight bit afterward, and just the sight of it made his heart race. He still wanted to hold her, but that wasn't the only thing. And he realised now that this certain desire had been in the back of his mind all week as well. He looked at her face a moment longer, holding his breath. She slept deeply enough, he decided. She wouldn't even notice him, she wouldn't wake up, she wouldn't be bothered by it. It was alright. If he didn't bother her, it was alright. Wasn't it?  
Hardly comprehending what he was doing, he leaned down slowly, carefully, until his face was an inch away from hers and he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. She smelled of the vegetable soup they'd eaten that evening, he thought with a smile. Not an unpleasant scent, though. Not at all. He nibbled on the inside of his lip for a moment, wondering whether he should go through with this. He wasn't supposed to be doing any of this. But his heart only beat faster now, and he assumed he wouldn't be able to sleep like this. He should, for the sake of his own health. Yeah. That was reason enough, wasn't it? So he leaned down further to cross the last inch of distance between them, and very softly pressed his lips to hers. He moved away again after a second or two, staring down at her.  
And then it dawned on him. He'd just kissed her.  
 _He kissed Hungary._  
 _Like... what?_ He didn't get it just yet. His childhood friend? Nah, he hadn't _kissed_ his oldest, dearest friend! That was totally weird. So un-awesome.  
So _perfect,_ wonderful, amazing.  
Then his blood ran cold. _So against the rules._  
He got up, stared at the sleeping Hungary for a moment longer, his heart beating fast in both excitement and dread, then turned and left again, as quickly as he could. Blast it, he just had to go and break the rules again! It's not like he wasn't the only one -hell, Rome was filled with sinners- but he didn't want to. _I should've known this was something I would regret!_ he scolded himself with a huff as he lay down again. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't regret it. Not really.

After this, Prussia hadn't slept all night. Why had he done something as stupid as that? It was against the rules, it was just wrong in any way possible. And he'd done it. _For God's sake,_ he sighed to himself when the sun rose and he hadn't slept a wink anymore. _I honestly can't go through a decade without breaking any rules, can I?_ Sure, it was what made life so exciting, but he would've prefered not doing it. _Oh, who am I kidding,_ he snickered then, getting up out of bed again to get dressed. _I love doing all of it. The punches, the swearing, the... the kiss._ He still felt awkward thinking about that. But, he told himself, it was the first and last time something like that had happened. No way would he do that again.  
He ate a quick breakfast with Veneziano (thanking God that Hungary was still asleep) then put on his cloak again and went out. His feet brought him back to the place where priests were selling the indulgences, the pieces of paper that would supposedly take away all your sins. _He_ had sinned last night. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea... "If I had money," he muttered then, sighing. But he didn't. Not much, at least, and he needed what little he had for his travels. So he just stood there, inspecting all the people who thought giving money would bring them salvation. And looking at it like that, he realised again what utter bullshit it was. The only thing money could buy was comfort in life! The amount of comfort in afterlife was completely up to how well one lived their life. _Which means I'll have none,_ he thought wryly. _Well... I suppose not even God will be able to resist my awesomeness. I'll be fine. And besides, I'm not dying anytime soon!_  
"It's truly a disgrace, isn't it?" a voice suddenly sounded behind him, and the Prussian jumped in shock. Turning around, he saw a man standing behind him, another pilgrim by the looks of him. The human just went on without looking at Prussia. " _Indulgences._ What nonsense -there's nothing in the Bible about this. It states one can only be forgiven for their sins through living well and righteously. These priests only want to line their pockets with money." Prussia listened to him, agreeing with every word. "That money will probably not even be used for the churches here," the human continued. "They'll use it to pay for their prostitutes! They're a disgrace to christianity, don't you think?" He looked down at Prussia now, and the country met his gaze. The pilgrim flinched for a moment upon seeing his eyes, which had been hidden by the cloak earlier, but composed himself again before Prussia could even feel offended. He understood now why his eyecolour would startle people at first, and he only couldn't stand it if they mentioned it or made a big deal of it. This man did neither. He only looked at him curiously. "You're a Teutonic priest, aren't you? I can tell by your attire."  
Prussia just nodded. "And you're German as well," he noticed, going by the man's appearance and his clothing. His accent in Italian gave it away as well. So Prussia went on in their native language now. "I hear you're disappointed as well?"  
"In Rome? Definitely," the man answered, looking at the indulgence selling again. "I can't count the things I've encountered here that do not fit with the christian teachings."  
Prussia nodded again. "I came here only a month ago," he said then. "But I'll be leaving again soon. It's not worth my time, staying here."  
They didn't really talk anymore after that, and the human eventually turned to leave. Before he did, he said one final thing, however. "I'm glad I'm not the only one to think like this," he told the country. "Well, good luck on your further travels back home, and goodbye..."  
Prussia knew he was waiting for a name, and he decided to use the one he hadn't used anymore for centuries. "Gilbert," he answered with a dip of his head.  
"Goodbye then, Gilbert," the human finished with a tiny smile, then turned around.  
"Hey, wait!" Prussia then called after him, and the human stopped again, looking over his shoulder. "What kind of manners are that?" he asked the pilgrim with a grin. "You forgot to introduce yourself, sir."  
The human chuckled at this. "Of course, my apologies. I'm Martin Luther."

* * *

 **Those who know a bit about this time in history will know what this last part means, and those with extra knowledge about Prussian history will know what it means to him personally~**

 **Now I'm always awkward with writing about real historical figures, but this one even more so. Somewhere way up my family tree, you'll find Martin Luther's name, and that makes it even worse -_-' I'm always afraid I'll depict them wrong, you see... Ah well. There could be worse things.**

 **And those against shipping, no, I'm not planning to make this a PruHun fic! _But_ there have been plenty of hints to a  one-sided crush on Prussia's end. And as you might have noticed, I am trying to stick to both history and Prussia's character description on the wikia. That's why. And I figured that with his current age... he's allowed to discover a few things. Like "what the crap is this pressure on my chest? I don't like it! Hm... yet I do..."**

 **Well, that was it for now, and just in case that I won't finish the next chapter before then, Happy New Year everyone!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for the reviews, Awesomely Random and TheBlueAcid!**

 **Not much history in this one, but I suppose there's never a problem with getting a break... I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

13 _September 1510_

 _France is hell on Earth. Well, to me. Wanna know why?_  
 _Witch hunts._  
 _Not that they don't happen within my own borders, but my own people know me and accept me despite what I've done and what I look like. These don't. At least in Italy I was with another country, one they do trust. Here I'm on my own and hunted down by them._  
 _I'm way too awesome for this crap! I'm just here to see more of the world as I travel back home, and what do I get? A horde of angry Frenchmen following me. Just great. I know they won't be able to kill me, but that's the entire problem! If they catch me and torture me and see my wounds heal, they'll declare me a demon (I'm not a witch to them, obviously, since I'm not a woman) and then they'll try to kill me, which won't work and only convince them further._  
 _God, I know I haven't exactly been a good person all my life and that I'm screwing this priest job up, but surely it wasn't bad enough to deserve this? A little help would be appreciated!_

"Sir, we've found a real one now," one of the teenager's people said after he'd ran up to the blonde boy. The human looked distressed at telling this news. "In the form of a boy. No matter what we did to him, he would heal within minutes. We burned him, he survived. He-"  
The teenager interrupted the man quickly, feeling a shiver go down his spine. "I don't need to know everything you do to witches and demons," he said with a grimace. "Your methods are much too gruesome to listen to."  
Meanwhile the human was fumbling in a bag. "These are his things," he explained to his country, who looked a little more interested now. "There was one thing we found was worth keeping: it appears to be a journal, but... I don't know in what language it's written." He handed it to the teenager, who immediately opened it and flipped through the pages.  
"It's in German," he mumbled, narrowing his eyes. He didn't know much of that language, but more than the majority of his people did. Maybe he could make some sense of this journal. Soon enough, his eyes widened in shock and his blood felt like ice. _You've got to be kidding me,_ he thought as his stomach did a somersault. His people had _not_ tortured and burned this person, they couldn't have! "This is another _country's_ journal!" he exclaimed in anger, glaring at the human. "Why do you think you couldn't hurt him? _He's like me!_ "  
The human flinched at these words, realising his mistake but still trying to defend himself and the others who had participated in capturing this... this _monster._ "He has the eyes of the Devil, sir," he protested feebly. "Red as blood. It's as if the rest of his body has no colour at all, not even his hair! Only his eyes... red like the Devil's."  
 _No colour, red eyes..._ The country knew he'd heard of a country like that somewhere. It was a European one, he knew, small and not that important. If he had been, a mighty country like himself would've met this kid already. He flipped through the journal, hoping he could find a name somewhere. _Italien, Ungarn, Osterreich_... He knew these people, and none of them looked anything like this human had just described. _Brandenburg, Bavaria..._ _Those are girls._ Then he found something: _Preussen._ That one word sparked his memory, mentions of a sudden visit to England. His enemy had told him all about it once they stopped fighting. A little too much attitude for such a small country, according to him.  
Prussia.  
"Where is this demon -this country- now?" he asked, hoping the human could tell by his voice that it was urgent.  
The human shifted uncomfortably on his feet and looked away, knowing that if he told his country the truth, he wouldn't be forgiven anytime soon. "Well, France, he..." he began nervously.  
" _Well?_ "  
"At the bottom of the river, sir. Last someone dove in to check, he wasn't breathing, but his heart just kept on beating nonetheless."  
Scowling, France ran off. Witch hunt on a country! What a ridiculous, horrible thing to do to an immortal, who couldn't die no matter what was done to him. Hopefully the torture that came before it hadn't been too bad...

* * *

Prussia groggily opened his eyes. He was tired and all his muscles were sore, and he just really didn't want to wake up yet. But there was an annoying itch along his sides and thighs, and not matter how long he waited, rolling over and back again in his half-sleep, it just wouldn't fade by itself. So he gave his side a soft scratch.  
And that had him sit up in a heartbeat.  
Pain seared his skin where he'd scratched himself, however gently it had been, and his gaze immediately flew down to his skin. Patches of it were raw and pink, uneven and hard, like scabs. He grimaced. Now when had that happened? Then the young country decided to give his surroundings a good look.  
And now where the hell was he? He was pretty certain he hadn't come this way on his own. Or hadn't come this way at all. He didn't recognise the room he was in, walls of wood and stone. Confused and cautious now, he got to his feet, flinching at the soreness in his legs. He seriously didn't understand what was going on, where he was, how he had gotten those scars, and he was going to find out. So as he walked out of the room, he observed every little thing he saw: paintings along one wall, a vase seated on a fancy-looking sidetable in a corner. Clearly this was some rich guy's residence. Prussia scowled. Seriously, what had brought him here? Who?  
He got the answer to that question quickly, when the noise he'd made, however soft, had apparently alarmed the owner of this place. He was surprised to see it was a teenager that walked up to him, 16 years old, give or take.  
"You're Prussia, right?" the teen asked him in French.  
Hearing this language, the Prussian remembered where he was with shivers going down his spine. He was in France. He was in France, and he'd had to flee from the locals as they went about their witch hunts. Of course they had thought he was an evil creature as well. He just never got a break, did he? Weary now, he narrowed his red eyes and met the teenager's gaze, masking his nervousness with anger. "And you're France," he answered slowly. The older country nodded. "I was caught," Prussia went on, guessing the events of the last... days?... while he spoke. "I was caught and they tortured me to make me confess. And then..."  
"Then they drowned you," France finished for him, eyes expressionless and voice devoid of any emotion. "I had to collect you from the bottom of a river. I don't know how long you'd been there, but you've been unconscious for quite a while after. I'm guessing it was a long time."  
"Great," Prussia huffed. "Thanks." He averted his gaze then, looking at some of the paintings. Some were in a style similar to Italy Veneziano's, and memories of the sweet, energetic kid warmed his insides for a moment. He had definitely felt better in Italy than here, but he felt even better in his own land. It was about time he headed back.  
"They also burned you, Prussia," France said, paying the younger country's cold reaction no mind. "At a stake."  
At those words, Prussia's head whipped around and he stared wide-eyed at France. Burned at a stake? That was it! The raw scars along his sides were _burn_ scars. And the moment he realised what this meant, he got tense all over, glaring at France. "You were there," he muttered accusingly. "It has left me with scars. _You were there._ "  
France quickly shook his head. "No, Prussia, I wasn't-"  
"Why else would I have scars?" Prussia protested, enraged, taking a few steps closer to the older country until he was only a metre in front of him. "Humans can't hurt countries like that! Only war-related wounds and wounds inflicted by _other countries_ can leave scars on our bodies!"  
"Not if it was as bad as this," France tried to explain, though his eyes told Prussia that he knew his efforts would be fruitless. "The humans said you were burned to a crisp, Prussia. Horrible burns over your entire body, up to your jaw. Honestly, it's a miracle you still have any hair left."  
Immediately, the Prussian ran his fingers over his skull. His hair felt like it was about half the length it used to be, and when he moved his hands away, he saw some black, sooty hairs between his fingers. "Well," France said with sheepish laughter, "maybe if you brush it enough, it'll all fall out as this rate!"  
Prussia just stared before shaking the few burned hairs off. He'd never thought he would miss the snowy white his hair was, but anything was better than this sooty black. It made the fact that he'd been burned at a stake feel a little too real. Why would anyone do that, to anyone? H felt horrible. He just sighed and tried to walk past France, but the older country stopped him.  
"You could at least thank me, you know," the blonde teenager grumbled. "That river was _freezing_ and I dove in to get you out. Then I took you home and took care of you. A thanks is the least you can do when someone has saved your life."  
"I didn't need saving," Prussia protested, staring up at the taller country. "I never needed saving! It were humans doing this shit to me, not a country -I was never in any real danger."  
"You would've been stuck on the bottom of that river for eternity if no one decided to get you out," France told him angrily.  
 _Maybe that would've been better,_ Prussia thought, though he would never speak those words out loud. "I could've gotten out on my own," he just protested, sidestepping France and walking away. He knew the kingdom was staring at him -he could feel his dark blue gaze burning in his back as he walked- but he didn't say anything anymore. Prussia just went into the first room he saw, France's bedroom apparently, quietly rummaged through his dresser and pulled out a woolen shirt -his own was gone, as was his Teutonic priest attire. This shirt was way too big on him, but at least it was something to last him through the upcoming winter. Then, as he turned around to leave again, he saw a familiar book lying on the Frenchman's bed. _What does he have my journal for?_ he thought, getting angry yet again and hoping that France didn't know enough German to have read most of it. He grabbed it and stuck it under the shirt, walking away with it. At least he hadn't lost his records of the past year. He wanted to keep everything he'd written about Rome, about... about Hungary... and most of all about the interesting priest he'd met in Rome, Martin Luther. They had met and spoken one other time, longer then, and Prussia had been as intrigued with him as he had been with Prussia. While at first the Prussian had wanted to keep it a secret, it hadn't been long before he'd told the man that he was a country, and Luther had been very interested to hear about immortals. He himself was very knowledgible as well, and Prussia had been listening to him intently as the man spoke about some of his studies. They shared the majority of their views on the current state of the church and their religion, though there were plenty of things they disagreed on as well. In his many years of life, Prussia had learned to be a little more tolerant of other religions than most of the Teutonic Knights had been. Luther had no such tolerance, and the way he spoke about people with different beliefs could get Prussia rather mad. After centuries of being an outcast, he'd become a little sensitive to the word 'different', and hated it when people labled others as being such, let alone treated them badly because of it.  
He said no goodbye to France before he left, and wandered back onto the streets of Paris, ready to go back to German territories. Most of all, he wanted to go _home_.

* * *

There was a chill in the air by the time he reached Brandenburg's home, announcing a cold winter ahead of them. This was his last stop before he'd head home again, and if he didn;t stay too long, maybe he'd reach his own house before the end of the year.  
Right now he was exhausted like he'd never been before, dragging his feet as he walked up to his cousin's front door. It was unlocked, to his surprise, and he walked right in. "Brand!" he called to announce his arrival. "Awesome's here! I hope you have something for me to crash on, because honest to God, my awesome feet are covered in three layers of blisters by now." He got no answer and stumbled into the living quarters of the house, where he was met with a sigh he hadn't expected to see. He grunted then and called out to his cousin again. "Brand! Sissy has invaded your home! Need Awesome to defend you?"  
Austria just rolled his eyes at this. "Honestly, Prussia," he sighed. "When I thought your new profession would teach you some manners and do something about your attitude, I clearly made a grave mistake."  
Prussia huffed and sat down on the first chair he saw, finally giving his poor feet a rest. "I'll never travel around Europe on foot again," he complained. "It's _evil._ "  
"I'm sure it isn't, Prussia," Austria then said, not looking at his younger cousin.  
The Prussian just huffed again and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Why do you always have to disagree with me?"  
"Why do you always act like you have not a scrap of intelligence and make stupid comments that make it impossible for me to agree with you?" Austria retaliated, still not looking up from the book he was reading.  
"Childish sissy shit," Prussia just muttered at this response, placing his chin on the table he sat at and closing his eyes. He felt like he could fall asleep any moment now.  
"Calling names," Austria snorted, unimpressed. "How mature."  
Already having enough of his cousin's presence now, Prussia looked up again. "Where is Brandenburg?" he asked flatly. "I came here for _her_ , not a stupid prick like you."  
Austria put his book down, and sighed deeply, clearly as annoyed with Prussia as Prussia was with him. "She's asleep," he told the young country. "But please don't wake her, she isn't feeling too well lately."

Prussia wasn't listening to Austria well enough to hear the last bit in time. The words didn't sink in until it was too late and he stood in his cousin's bedroom. She was sound asleep though, her cheeks a little bit flushed and her breathing harsher than usual. _Right,_ he thought flatly. _Sissy did mention you're sick._ He wanted to turn around and leave carefully, but she was already stirring, and she rasped a soft, confused "Prussia?"  
He turned around once again to face her, smiling sheepishly. "Good afternoon, Brand!" he greeted her gently. "How're you feeling?"  
"Have a cold..." she mumbled, still half-asleep. "Shit economy..." She shifted again and looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. "What are you doin' 'ere...?"  
Prussia got closer carefully, standing beside her bed eventually. "I'm at the end of my nice little pilgrimage," he explained. "Thank God."  
She smirked at him at that, yawned and stretched a bit and looked up at him again, looking more alert already. "Was it that bad?"  
Prussia faked a shrudder and a grimace, answering over-dramatised: "It was horrible, Brand, just horrible. First I had to go through _Austria_ to get to Italy, then the weather was so nice in Italy, I got burns all over. Rome is a terrible place, but France was worse-" He stopped then for a moment. He wouldn't tell anybody about the events in France. Being hunted as a witch or a demon? No one would ever hear about it, not from him. "-and then I came here to find _Austria_ in your house and you sick! It was just the most terrible thing ever."  
She only blinked at him, staying silent for a moment, inspecting his grin. Then she sighed. "But it wasn't a joke, was it?" she asked softly. "All that. What you said just now wasn't a joke."  
Prussia didn't react for a little while, averting his gaze and staring down at the floor. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head silently. "I just don't think I'm really cut out for this life," he confessed. "Being a priest, I mean. I've been doing it for decades now, but I'm still not comfortable with it. It's just not me... is it?"  
"It's not," Brandenburg answered, shaking her head in agreement and stretching again. Then she rolled over and pressed herself to his side with a deep sigh. "You're warm..." she mumbled, sounding really far gone again. Prussia just brushed his hand against her cheek, deciding fairly quickly that she was much warmer than him. But in her half-aware, sick state, she probably didn't realise that fact. It wasn't long until she lay there with her arms wrapped around Prussia's waist and her cheek against his abdomen, relishing the 'warmth'. He just let her: if she enjoyed it, she could just go ahead and do so. He was okay with sitting beside her on her bed, listening to her deep breathing. And then he suddenly realised something.  
 _It didn't feel anything like when Hungary held him._  
It just wasn't the same. Maybe that meant something, he thought with a sigh. Maybe... maybe she meant a bit more to him for real, then. Hungary. Because he absolutely loved Brandenburg: she was his favourite cousin of all, a good friend, perhaps his _best_ friend. But even with her practically on his lap like this, he just didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable yet warm and comfortable as he did when he sat in the same room with Hungary. He grunted then. _So un-awesome to have a crush on your best friend!_ he scolded himself.  
Brandenburg stirred again, and he put his hand on her head, softly stroking her dark hair until she was still and quiet again. And like that he sat with her for a little while longer, though his mind was with Hungary. What was there to love about her, what was it about her that apparently attracted him somehow? Sure, she was a loyal friend, kind and funny, strong and independent and trustworthy... She could be annoying, but in an almost endearing way. He'd hardly ever gotten really angry at her, even when she insulted him and made fun of him. She was quick to forgive his pranks, too, usually because she retaliated quickly with her own pranks. She was a girl, but not girly. He could always talk to her about things he wouldn't discuss with Brandenburg or Bavaria or any of the other girls in his family. Like men amongst each other.  
Right. She was simply everything he could wish for. He couldn't stand _girly_ girls, mainly because he just didn't understand them. Hungary was like a guy in a female body sometimes. Now that he could handle.  
But would he ever? His heartbeat picked up its pace at that thought. _Maybe she likes me, too..._ he wondered, the now-familiar pressure on his chest back in a heartbeat. _Or could like me._ He wasn't just going to give up on her without having tried, that was for sure! Surely no one with even a slight amount of awesomeness would be able to resist _his_ overload of it?

"Oh..." suddenly came a hushed voice from behind him, and Prussia strained his neck to look over his shoulder. Austria was standing in the doorway, staring at Prussia and Brandenburg with mild surprise. "So you did wake her up, then?"  
"Accidentally," Prussia whispered back, looking back down at Brandenburg. He was at his cousin's place now, not Hungary's. He should focus on Brandenburg and even Austria more than he did Hungary right now.  
Austria stared just a little longer, then huffed. "You seem closer than I thought you were," he commented flatly, nodding to how Brandenburg was still hugging Prussia in her sleep.  
The Prussian stared down at her for a moment and, as he realised what Austria was implying, felt his face grow hot. He wanted to get her off him right then and there, but at the same time he didn't want to disturb her again, not if she had a cold which she needed to sleep off. He just glared at Austria over his shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that he was probably blushing right now. "She says I'm keeping her warm like this," he said in an angry whisper. "And while that is complete bullshit, of course - _she's_ the one with a fever!- I'm happy to sit here for a bit if it makes her happy."  
"Oh, how sweet," Austria just sighed, rolling his eyes. Then he looked at Prussia again through narrowed eyes. "You're confusing, you know. One moment you're an asshole, the next you're actually rather kind."  
"Thank you, dear Sissy-head, for this most wonderful compliment," Prussia then said with a grin and an over-dramatised bow -well, the latter only as much as he could do without waking Brandenburg. "Just get out, will you? I want to see if I can peel her off my lap."  
Austria snorted, giving his younger cousin an amused glance before turning around. "Good luck with that. I'll be off, then."  
The moment Austria left the room, Prussia very carefully moved his hands to his lower back, where Brandenburg had her arms wrapped around him. He gently grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms away. She grunted and stirred a bit as he moved her off his lap and laid her back down on her side, but she slept deeply again once she lay there and he pulled her woolen sheet back over her shoulders. Carefully he made his way off her bed and out of her room, closing the door silently. How dare Austria imply that he was _close_ to Brandenburg, in _that_ way? Because Prussia had definitely seen a spark in his dark blue eyes that he just didn't like one bit. _Stupid aristocrat. Doesn't know anything._ If the older country ever saw him in Hungary's presence compared to when he was with Brandenburg or any other girl, inside _and_ outside the family, he'd now that if Prussia ever wanted to be _close_ to anyone, it would be _Hungary._

He walked around through the house for a bit longer, first of all heading to the kitchen to get a bit of bread. Tired as he was after his long journey, right now he was simply feeling restless. He wouldn't be able to sleep like Brandenburg, for sure. Then he wandered to the living quarters again, sitting down for a moment. To his surprise, Austria wasn't there. But after a few minutes, he got tired of being there, too, and walked around a bit more. Maybe it was _because_ he had been traveling for so long that it felt wrong not to move right now, he thought with a sigh. But his feet and legs hurt, and he felt dizzy with lack of sleep.  
Suddenly he heard a noise in the room, and confused, he tried to follow it to its source. He only had to take a few more steps to recognise it as music, however. A piano. Which immediately told him where it was coming from: Brandenburg had a piano in her library. She played piano and violin, but not often, and she was better at playing the violin than the piano. _This_ was way above her level, clearly a master playing. _Don't tell me..._ He quickly made his way to the library and, once there, stood frozen in the doorway. Austria's fingers were moving effortlessly over the keys of the instrument, quick and nimble. His hands and fingers were long and thin, and Prussia had always been confused by that. His own were a lot wider and rougher. It was one of the things that made Prussia call his cousin a sissy, because of how feminine his hands looked. But now he saw what he could use those girly, thin hands for, he could only stare in wonder. It was absolutely beautiful...  
"Do you like it, Prussia?" Austria asked out of the blue, back still turned to the younger country, making Prussia jump in shock. He hadn't thought Austria had actually noticed his presence.  
He just forced himself to laugh and sneer: "Nah, just looking at how lame you look, sitting there like that! Sissy boy plays the piano, _of course he does._ How typical!"  
"And the violin, the flute, the harp and several others," Austria corrected him calmly. "And what instruments do you play, Prussia?"  
"The sword, the bow and arrows, dagger, axe..." He snickered again. "Those are all the 'instruments' someone like me needs!"  
"A priest, you mean?"  
At that, Prussia fell silent. Shit. Of course, he wasn't a knight anymore, hadn't been for ages. Why was that the first answer he blurted out?  
"Look, Prussia," Austria sighed as he stopped playing for a moment, "anyone can see you're not cut out for your current job, and most of all that you're not happy doing it. So why continue? You were much happier as a knight than you are now."  
" _Because,_ " Prussia protested, his voice quivering a bit as he knew he would have to lie now, and he knew Austria would never buy it. "I don't want to be a knight anymore! I don't want to _fight_ again, I-"  
"You're afraid of yourself."  
"What?" he choked out at that sudden comment, taken aback by the truth in it. How could Austria figure that out just like that? He'd never mentioned anything about it, only that he'd done some bad things and wanted to pay for his crimes.  
"It's as clear as day, Prussia, to all of us. You can't fool your family: we know you. The 'bad things' you've done... You're afraid that you'll do it again if you ever pick up a sword again, aren't you?"  
Prussia shifted on his feet a bit, averting his gaze. He couldn't deny it anymore now, that would be useless. "I... I guess." He expected a sarcastic comment again, but instead Austria only shoved aside on his seat, making space.  
"Just come sit with me here, Prussia," he said flatly, thankfully not talking about the whole priest-or-knight thing anymore. "I know that I'm not a born fighter like you are, even though I was supposed to be, but I do have my talents. And you may be a little ruffian sometimes, I know you have a softer side, too, and a hidden love for the more cultural things in life." He looked over his shoulder then and smirked. "What I'm saying is: I know you like my music, so stop being stubborn and just enjoy the it."  
After a bit more of hesitation, Prussia gave in and joined his cousin as Austria began to play another piece. The music was beautiful enough for Prussia to forget his dislike for the older country for a moment and just listen to it, completely relaxed. He was actually happy to be there at that moment. He wanted to go home more than anything, but being with Brandenburg and even Austria right now was almost as good.  
 _Good lord,_ he sighed internally, mildly amused by it. _Maybe my current occupation really_ _ **isn't**_ _good for me! I'm beginning to not-hate Aust- Sissy!_  
 _..._  
 _I still don't like him._

* * *

 **Aw, dear Prussia, for the sake of the PruAus shippers that might be reading, just stop denying that you love him~!  
**

 **No. I actually do _not_ ship them and (sorry PruAus fans) history doesn't support it either... But I do love the rivalry and tense relationship between Austria and Prussia a lot!  
Something that history _does_ support is... not supported by Prussia. But that chapter will come in the near future.**

 **The next will have more history again, along with a very important day in Prussian history.  
Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it~!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi there!  
TheBlueAcid and Awesomely Random, thanks for the reviews!  
Well, here's the answer to your question. I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _1 December 1517_

 _Some time ago, Saxony told me he had something to show me in one of his towns, so I went there as fast as I could. Now I stopped being a priest 3 years ago, and this was something to do with the church, but he still said this was something that would be interesting for me._  
 _Was it ever! In Saxony's town of Wittenberg, on the door of a church, the priest Martin Luther nailed a list with 95 theses! It got removed, but Saxony copied it for me to read when I came here. Sure, there are still things I don't agree on, but... this might be the best thing that has happened in the church for a long time! Finally, someone to stand up for the_ _real_ _teachings of God!_  
 _Holy Rome is here, too, and he was less pleased by it. I've tried talking to him about it, but the moment he heard that I mostly agree with Luther, he got angry at me..._  
 _But I_ _know_ _this man is right! I can't just start agreeing with Holy Rome just to please him. To be honest, Holy Rome and I have been falling out more often lately, anyway. He seems so stressed, not even my awesomeness can cheer him up. He says I'm annoying most of the time. Well, whatever, really. He can say whatever he likes, it's not going to change my behaviour_ _or_ _my beliefs. If I want to follow Luthers preachings, then I will!_

 _30 April 1521_

 _12 days ago, Luther appeared before the Diet of Worms. He is being treated as a heretic, and I'm afraid he might get executed for all the things he's said and written. What a fair church and government, to condemn a man who only speaks the truth. For 11 years I have admired his ideas, and I'm not going to stop. Some of my siblings and cousins agree with me, but others wish to declare him a heretic and an outlaw. Holy Rome is still among them, and he's still angry at me and Saxony and the others._  
 _I'll support this man. Something needs to change in the church, and he has the best ideas around. If only the Pope and Bishops listened to him..._  
 _Anyway, as a conclusion to my recent war with Poland: I lost (again), an armistice was signed on 5 April this year... We were stopped because Hungary is in trouble with the Ottoman Empire and we're both expected to aid her. I'd love nothing more! But first, I'll have to recover from this war, even if it lasted only 2 years._  
 _My Grand Master, Albert of Hohenzollern, is on his way to Wittenberg now, and has taken me with him. But what I want most is to take some time to recover from this war and then head south to Hungary, even if I'm to only one of the Teutonic Knights doing so!_  
 _When I save her from the Ottoman Empire, she's bound to look at me in a different light. Maybe I won't have to wait for her to realise that I would be a much more awesome boyfirend than just a friend if I do so!_

By the end of that summer, Prussia and Albert of Hohenzollern were in Wittenberg. What the Prussian had feared had happened: Martin Luther had been declared an outlaw. Albert had met with the human, though, and had been advised to do some things that he wouldn't even tell Prussia about until they were on their way back to Prussia a few months later.  
Country and leader sat in a carriage as they went back to Königsberg, and the young pre-teen was staring out the window, watching snow drift lazily onto the ground. He'd much rather be outside, riding a horse and breathing fresh air than being stuck inside here, being able only to sit and sigh. He hated carriages: they were so boring. At least if he rode his own horse he could decided his own pace, he could go off the road if he wanted to, he could do whatever he wanted so long as the animal could keep up with his wishes.  
But when his leader began to speak, he didn't have time anymore to think of how bored he was. "Prussia," Albert began solemnly, "I know you're aware of the exchange I've had with this man, Luther. You're right, boy, he has some interesting ideas, and I agree that it would be best to follow them."  
Prussia's heart beat a bit faster at this. The Teutonic Order would follow Luther's beliefs now? That was one of the best things he could imagine! They had some influence in the church -surely the Pope would listen if the entire Teutonic Order went Lutheran?  
But that idea was soon robbed from him again. "In order to do so, we must leave the Teutonic Order."  
Prussia only stared at him, wide-eyed, not comprehending. He could tell by how the Grand Master's lips moved that he was still speaking, but he didn't hear any words. He didn't hear _anything._ The voice of his leader, the rattle of the wooden wheels on cobblestone roads and the clacking of the horses' hooves all vanished in that instant. Leave the Teutonic Order? _Leave_ the Teutonic Order? The organisation that had given him life, and had shaped his life ever since? Could they? Of course, Prussia hadn't really gone back to being a knight since he left that status in the 1460's... but to actually leave the Order? After his centuries of knighthood, he'd been a _Teutonic_ priest and then a sort of advisor to the Teutonic Order's Grand Master. All his life, he had spent only 4 years outside the Teutonic Order, back in his first century of life, when he lived with Holy Rome. And even then, his loyalty had stayed with the Order that had raised him.  
"Do you understand?" the Grand Master's voice then shook him out of his shock. The human was staring at him calmly, as though he hadn't noticed how much his country's mind had wandered.  
"I-I..." Prussia choked out, unable to speak now. "W-well, I... _leave?_ "  
"Is that all you heard?" Albert asked, narrowing his eyes. Then he sighed and looked out the small windows for a moment. "I understand that this may come as a shock to you, Prussia, but trust me when I say it is for the best. We will start following Luther's teachings, and therefore we shall leave the Teutonic Order. I will marry, Prussia, into a royal family. And then I'll be the Duke of Prussia, understood?"  
"Duke?" Prussia echoed, surprised. "Y-you mean I-?"  
"You'll be the Duchy of Prussia."  
That idea left Prussia breathless for a moment. A duchy? Him? He'd been a monastic state for so long, he hadn't thought he would ever be anything else, though his dream to become a kingdom or even an empire was still alive. The Duchy of Prussia... it did sound nice. "But we'll have to leave the Teutonic Order..." he mumbled, half to himself.  
"Prussia, it has already been decided," Albert then said. "It will take some time, but I wanted to tell you now so that you can get used to the idea. Understand?"  
Prussia nodded, and absent-mindedly went back to staring out the window. "Thanks for the consideration..." he mumbled softly. He would really need some time to adjust to this idea...

* * *

The day came 4 years later, on 10 April 1525. Mere days after signing the Treaty of Krakow to officially end the recent war between the Teutonic Order and Poland, Grand Master Albert of Hohenzollern resigned from his position and promised hommage to the Polish king, who in turn granted him the title Duke in Prussia, 'in' because Prussia wasn't a united whole, part of it being an autonomous Polish fiefdom, the other half being part of the Kingdom of Poland still, like it had been for over half a century.  
In turn, Poland was given the task to officially declare Prussia a Duchy now.

Prussia got on one knee before Poland, who stood with the straightest back Prussia had ever seen him with. "It was about time you turned your back on the Teutonic Knights, Prussia," he said with a hint of triumph in his voice.  
Prussia had to stop himself from gritting his teeth. _I did not turn my back on them!_ he wanted to yell. _Albert did!_ Prussia was still terrified of this day, if he had to be honest. Who could guarantee that he wouldn't be affected too greatly by cutting ties with the military order that had started his life? He could lose strength, get sick... he could die for all he knew. Maybe that was what would happen. Maybe that was the reason Poland looked so triumphant over it.  
"You may get up now, _Ducal_ Prussia."  
The newly named Duchy got to his feet, suppressing a shrudder. He was a Duchy now, and he was still okay. He was okay. He could barely stop himself from sighing in relief at this, as he kept his eyes on the floor. He wouldn't look up until Poland told him to.  
"I hope this day marks the end of our battles," Poland spoke softly then, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear. "I was getting tired of it, to be honest. 150 years of near-constant war is more than enough for me."  
"I hope so, too," Prussia answered with a polite dip of his head, mainly to hide the grin on his face that appeared for a split second. _You wish, stupid! I'm one step away from breaking free of your rule now._ He would give it some time, but there would be a day when he would definitely fight against Poland again, win, and become completely independent.  
"You may look up, you know," Poland then told him, and relieved to relax his neck again, and looked up. To his surprise, Poland was holding a white flag in his hands, with a black eagle on it. A bright, golden S was on its chest and a crown around its neck. "Your new flag," Poland continued with a small smile. "Birds are... really your thing, aren't they?"  
Now Prussia smiled, too. He knew Poland was refering to his new pet bird, another one he'd found, with a broken wing this time. It was a young hawk, just young enough to be tamed. Had it been a month older, he wouldn't have been able to get near without getting attacked. It was the sixth bird he'd kept since he found his first, the little blackbird. He'd had that one, a crow, two pigeons, a wren and now a hawk. "I like birds," he just answered with a shrug. "And if they are wounded in the wild, it would be cruel to leave them to die, wouldn't it?"  
Poland eyed him curiously for a moment, as though that was the last thing he'd expected to hear. But then something else seemed to have caught his eye, and a tiny smile played on his lips. "All right, then. I'll be off now: I guess you'd rather talk to someone else right now." That said, he turned around, leaving a confused Prussia to stare after him for a few seconds before turning around as well.  
The Holy Roman Empire was standing behind him, smiling at him, though his icy blue eyes didn't reflect any of that joy. Still, when Prussia sought any scrap of warmth in his gaze, the empire smiled wider, welcomingly spreading his arms.  
Out of sheer joy, Prussia just couldn't hold back anymore. He ran up to his older brother and swung his arms around him, smiling wider than he had in ages. "I'm a duchy!" he choked out. "I'm really a duchy now!"  
"That you are," Holy Rome chuckled then, hugging his little brother back for a moment. Then he let go again, looking Prussia in the eyes. All the joy was suddenly gone from his blue irises, and he added in utter seriousness: "But I hope this madness will be short-lived. A whole country turning _Protestant?_ Abandoning the Teutonic Order, your religion, your people and _God._ Have you forgotten where your loyalties are?"  
Startled, Prussia took a step back. He'd been nervous himself at first, but now that everything was all right, surely this should be a day for celebration and joy? Confused, he shook his head. "I-I still follow the Word of God," he said. "I just do so in a different way than you. A-and I'm still a fief to Poland, and-"  
"And you abandoned your loyalty to _me_ ," Holy Rome interrupted him then, narrowing his eyes. "Do you realise that the Teutonic Knights were the only connection you had to me? Well, that's gone now! Happy now?"  
Prussia just blinked at him, confused and startled. This was a side of his brother that he'd never seen before. "And... that's a problem?" he asked, not knowing what to think now. "I mean, I'm still your little brother, isn't that enough? It's not like I've severed _all_ ties to you... right?"  
"You might as well have," the older country sighed. He stared Prussia in the eyes for a bit longer, then silently turned arounf and walked away. The new duchy could only stare at him, wondering what he'd done wrong. The Teutonic Knights hadn't been the _only_ ties he had to his older brother, right? He had a German majority as his people, some Polish, some Baltic. The majority of his people were the same as Holy Rome's. Wasn't that enough?  
 _Was his influence in my affairs all he cared about...?_ he couldn't help but wonder for a moment. _Having another piece of land for him to boss around? Is that all he cared about... from the beginning?_ His mind felt empty and his chest heavy then.

He followed Holy Rome after a minute of standing there, stunned silent, running the way his brother had left. Once outside, he saw nearly his entire family there, waiting for the empire that connected them all. "He's done it, all right," he heard Holy Rome mutter. "He's turned his back on all of us." Then the empire disappeared into the mass of countries, and Prussia stood frozen to the ground, watching them in silence. Some turned to look at him, Saxony, Brandenburg. The oldest among them, Hesse, looked down at Holy Rome for a moment before glancing at Prussia. He looked angry, and Prussia hoped it was just the effect of the scar that ran over his right brow and eye. What was there to be angry about? Austria was there, too, glancing at Prussia with unhidden contempt before going after Holy Rome. Bavaria didn't even look at him, and despite the fact that she and Prussia had never gotten along well, it still hurt. Then Holy Rome's vocie came again, from farther away, and Prussia could barely hear him. "Come on: there's no reason why we should stay here." When he said that, most of his territories followed him wordlessly without looking back at their young family member. Only some spared him a glance. Saxony cracked a smile at him, as if to say that it would be all right, and Holy Rome couldn't stay angry like this forever. Brandenburg only looked at him sadly, and he thought he could see her sigh. _I'm sorry,_ she seemed to be saying before turning to follow the rest of their family.  
Prussia could only stare at them, heartbroken. He hadn't turned his back on his family! He was following a different religion than they were, and he completely belonged to Poland now, but that wasn't betraying them! Was it? Why did Holy Rome have to act like he was a traitor now?  
Then he realised that, by changing his religion like this, he had condemned himself to the thing he hated most in this world.  
 _He was 'different' now._ The only Lutheran country on the entire planet. He let his shoulders hang at this realisation. He wasn't prepared to change who he was for the rest of the world, but he didn't want to be an outsider for the rest of his life. Just when he thought he belonged somewhere, he just had to go and ruin it for himself.

 _10 April 1525_

 _Today was not awesome at all..._

* * *

Weeks passed, but Prussia never felt any better. It reached the point where the Duke and everyone else around him kept an eye on him all the time. They didn't seem to want to let him out of sight for even a second.  
He sat in the garden of the palace where he lived with the Duke now, staring at the birds chirping in the trees. Then a wren flew away, and he sighed. If only he could fly like birds could, he could go to Holy Rome and tell him that he hadn't meant to betray his brother like this. He was still loyal to him and everyone else in the family.  
Then, suddenly, he heard a voice behind him, and he nearly jumped in shock. "Hey, what happened to mr Awesome?" Prussia looked over his shoulder, seeing Poland standing a little further away in the garden behind him. He smiled when Prussia looked back at him, though it looked a little bit forced.  
Prussia just blinked at him. "What are you doing here?"  
Poland shrugged. "Just that I allow you to spend most of your time as the Duchy of Prussia, doesn't mean part of you isn't still Royal Prussia as well. And besides, both sides of you belong to me." He walked over to the Prussian now and sat down beside him. "Which, in turn, also means it's my duty to look after you. What's bothering you?"  
Prussia sighed and looked away. Like he'd talk about it to Poland, of all people! "Nothing much."  
"Nothing much?" Poland echoed, laughing. "I see. That's why your Duke asked for my help!" Then he stopped laughing again, looking at Prussia with a calmer gaze. Prussia did his best not to meet his eyes, but it was becoming increasingly hard. Poland was clearly back in his 'mentor' role now, and Prussia had gotten over his dislike for the older country quite some time ago. "Don't think I didn't hear any of what the Holy Roman Empire said to you on the day you became a duchy. He's your older brother, isn't he?" Anger now edged Poland's voice as he spoke. "What right does he have to speak to you like that? He should know you even better than I do, and even I know that if you would betray _anyone,_ it would be me. But you're a loyal person, Prussia. A troublemaker of the likes I've never encountered before, but loyal."  
"He knows all that," Prussia muttered, still not looking at Poland, though he was flattered by the older country's words. After the centuries of war against Poland, he could've never hoped to think the kingdom still thought of him as loyal. But his anger at what Holy Rome had said and done overpowered every other emotion he felt right now. "It looked like he was turning the entire family against me! I understand that he was there that day, but why had he brought nearly all his territories with him just to witness me becoming a duchy, if it wasn't to congratulate me?"  
"To show them that you're a traitor," Poland answered calmly. "But you're not."  
"Why would he turn them against me?"  
"Have you taken a good look at him?" Poland then suddenly asked, and Prussia finally turned to stare at him, eyes narrowed questioningly. The kingdom blinked at him calmly as he stated flatly: "You're taller than him now. Everyone in your family is."  
That comment seemed to knock the air out of Prussia's lungs as easily as a punch to his stomach would have. It was true. It seemed to him that Holy Rome hadn't grown an inch in the past century. Horrified by this realisation, he turned his wide, shocked gaze to the floor.  
"He's not doing well, Prussia," Poland went on, like it was the most normal topic in the world, more so than even the weather. "I think he realises himself that he probably won't have long to live. Any loss of power now must seem like a death sentence to him. That being said, I understand his reaction, though it wasn't justified by his reasons. He had no right at all to say things like that, much less so to involve your other siblings in it. But I think you might want to visit him and get all your affairs with him in order. If you ask me, at this rate, he's not going to be around much long-"  
Before he could finish, Prussia slapped him hard in the face, jumping to his feet and standing in front of him with his shoulders tense. "He's _not_ dying!" he yelled in pure rage. "He's the Holy Roman Empire! He's the strongest country in the world. Right now he's just... not doing so well... but he will again!"  
"Again?" Poland echoed in disbelief, his cheek red and pink where Prussia had hit him, his voice tense with anger. "Prussia, would you open your eyes? That boy has _never_ been strong! Not for one second in his life has he been a true empire! _Holy? Roman?_ Don't make me laugh! He's German as can be, and far from holy! The Holy Roman Empire is a _joke_ , Prussia, and it's about time you grew up and realised that!"  
"He's my brother!" Prussia yelled back, trying his hardest not to attack Poland then and there. "He's not a joke, he's _my brother_."  
"Yet he made no effort to be brotherly to you the day you became a duchy, now did he?" Poland countered. "You change your name and religion, and he waits not a heartbeat to declare you a traitor to his family! Prussia, the Holy Roman Empire cares _nothing_ about you, and it would be good for you to stop caring about him yourself."  
"And you mean to say that _you_ do care?" Prussia growled, though he felt closer to crying than anything else at that moment. Who could guarantee that Poland wasn't speaking the truth? Who would tell him now that Holy Rome really did care about his little brother, after what he'd said and done only weeks ago?  
Poland didn't flinch at the silent accusation Prussia threw his way, and answered with unwavering calm: "Why else would I have kept you alive through all the wars we've fought? If I really didn't care, Prussia, don't you think I wouldn't have killed off a little bastard like yourself?"  
When Prussia kept on protesting, getting angrier and angrier, Poland just hit him over the head and told him to be silent. The punch, he said, was merely pay-back for the slap Prussia had given him. 'Be quiet' was a command he'd be better off following than ignoring. Then, after some silence between them, Prussia beginning to tremble slightly now that he couldn't channel his emotions through anger and yelling anymore, Poland pulled him along to the stables and pulled him onto a horse roughly, sitting down behind him so he wouldn't be able to escape. Then he rode away, Prussia squirming and protesting for only a moment until he realised it was useless. And besides, of all the brotherly, mentor-y figures Prussia had ever had, right now, it _did_ seem like Poland was the only one who actually cared. Best not get him angry as well.

Poland brought him to a small hill inside a forest, a little east of Prussia's capital. There was a single tree on the top of it, with an almost-flat rock underneath it. Behind it, the ground sloped down steeply. Poland got off the horse there, and tied it to a tree a little further down the hill. Confused, Prussia got down it as well and followed him up. He'd been in this forest many times before, and he'd seen this hill and the slope. He'd never bothered going up it before. Once at the top, he looked around briefly before staring at Poland. Why were they here?  
The kingdom just nodded to the rock and the tree. "What does that look like to you?"  
Prussia looked again. But it was still just a rock and a tree to him. Though, if he had to be honest, the sight of it triggered some emotion in him that he couldn't place. It was vague, hardly worth calling a nuisance, but it was there, in his heart, as he stared at the two things. "A flat rock," he answered. "Some moss on it. An oak tree behind it at the top of a steep slope. Why?"  
"This, Prussia," Poland began, his voice devoid of emotion as he sighed and walked up to the rock and knelt down beside it, picking some of the moss from it. "This is where Lithuania buried his sister after she died nearly 350 years ago."  
Prussia's breath caught in his throat as he realised what this meant, and he felt frozen to the ground as he stared at the rock -a gravestone. _His gravestone._  
Poland looked at him over his shoulder, his lips twisting into a small smile at Prussia's surprise. "Indeed, this is where your former self lies. I don't know what that must feel like... sorry if it's painful." He then worked to brush the last of the moss from the top of the rock, and Prussia saw some messy letters engraved in it. It was in Lithuanian, and as such he couldn't understand most of it, but he recognised his own name. Poland got up and stared at the grave in silence for a moment, then he turned back to Prussia, who was still staring at it motionlessly. "See that, Prussia?" he said then. "That's your identity. I know that she's dead, and I know that Prussia has a German majority these days, but you are her reincarnation. _This_ is who you are! You're _Prussia_ , and Prussia has never truly been German. You do realise that, don't you? Forget about the Holy Roman Empire, he's a jerk who cares more about his own life than that of others."  
Prussia stared at him. "And you had to take me to the grave of my former incarnation to tell me that?" he asked flatly. He didn't want to show it, but being here did leave an impact on him. "You should know that I'm too awesome to be affected by anything you say. I'm going home. Don't bother me anymore, it's no use." Then he turned around and went down the hill again, past the horse. Poland would return it someday. If not, he could keep it. Prussia would find his way back on foot just fine.

* * *

Once back, though, he found he couldn't really keep himself together anymore. The Holy Roman Empire was angry at him for something he didn't decide himself. Poland was trying to use this opportunity to turn Prussia against his brother. Or... something.  
 _I thought becoming a duchy would be the most awesome thing in my life!_ he thought, gritting his teeth as he walked back into the castle. _But it's ruined everything..._ His eyes started to burn, and he blinked a few times, hoping to blink it away. He was tired. That was probably it.  
"Prussia?" came a familiar voice, slightly shocked. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to. Did Poland talk to you, boy?"  
"Yeah, he did," Prussia muttered, not looking up at Duke Albert, though he did stop to answer him. " _Really_ helpful, taking me to my own grave! The stupid bastard. Very un-awesome."  
The Duke didn't seem to understand, but he told Prussia to follow him to his study. The Prussian just sighed and once again followed orders. It seemed like following orders was about all he could do these days. _Someone as awesome as I am,_ he thought angrily, _should be_ _ **giving**_ _orders, not receiving them!_  
Duke Albert sat down with a sigh. "Prussia, I suppose there is one thing you and I both need to get used to," he began. "You see, if I am to provide you with a new generation of this Ducal family sometime, I'll need to be able to deal with children. As for you, Prussia, like it or not... you're a kid, and it might be a good idea if you started acting like that again sometime as well. I know you're older than anyone else in this country, but at the same time you're just a kid, and a lot has happened to you recently." He looked away, a little awkward for just a moment. "So... let's see this moment as practice for us both, all right? You just... pretend I'm your parental figure right now. Do whatever you feel you need to do: I'll have to get used to it."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment, shocked. Of all the things the Duke could've said now, this was the last thing he'd expected to hear. And his words had struck deep. _Too_ much had happened lately. Not even his awesomeness could stand up to everything that happened in his life. Holy Rome thought he was a traitor, and Poland tried to turn Prussia against him. He'd seen his own damn grave today, and _nothing_ had been solved by it. It had really only made it worse. Had Poland been right? _Had_ he ever really been German? Surely he was... surely...  
"Holy Rome had no right to say those things... did he?" he choked out, voice quivering. The Duke clearly didn't understand what he was talking about -he hadn't been around to hear the two brothers talking then. "H-he went too far... it's not like I could help it... i-it wasn't my choice." He bit his lip for a moment. "I didn't want this! I-I mean... I did... I do want this, but not _like this._ N-not if everyone suddenly has to be angry at me..."  
"Prussia," the Duke then began, "what are you-?"  
Prussia wouldn't let him finish. If his Duke had given him the freedom to do whatever he wanted now, he would make use of it. He just swung his arms around the human now, pressing his face to his chest as tears streamed down his cheek. He was still gritting his teeth, trying to stay quiet as he clung to his Duke, but couldn't keep that up long. Only seconds passed before he started crying, allowing himself to do so for the first time in decades. Albert was tense for a moment, but relaxed a bit more soon enough. "Well," he sighed under his breath, probably talking more to himself than Prussia. "I did tell him to do so..."  
Prussia could only hope that becoming Protestant wouldn't ruin his life like it seemed it would now. He wished with all his heart that Holy Rome could forgive him. Soon.

* * *

 **Yes, yes, Holy Rome was being unreasonable there... but as those with a bit of knowledge of history would know, the Holy Roman Empire was doing worse and worse with the decade, almost. It's starting to get to him...  
No excuse, I suppose.**

 **Let's see how many of you can guess the next important change in the way Prussia was ruled... It'll be some chapters from now, but before we hit #20, going by my planning so far.  
I hope you liked the chapter, even if it was a bit more sad than usual. And thanks a lot for reading, as per usual, and uh... please leave a little review on your way out! Always nice.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry that this chapter is late! Test-week had to go and ruin my opportunities to write last week...**

 **Thanks to Tius, Abc and TheBlueAcid for reviewing and (sorry that I don't have your username(s) right now) thanks to everyone who favourited and/or followed!  
Ding-ding! We have a winner!**

 **Alright, no more nonsense... I hope you'll like the new chapter!**

* * *

Prussia hadn't been a Duchy yet for even a full year, when the governmental transition caused problems for him. He grunted as Duke Albert talked to him, closing his eyes. He had a headache and felt nausea rise up in his throat like bile.  
"Prussia, what's the matter now?" Albert sighed, interrupting what he'd been saying at first. His country hadn't been feeling well for a while now. Most of the time, it was emotional. But now he seemed to be doing bad physically as well. He personally thought it was just nerves now that they were in Vienna, Austria's capital as well as the city where they would meet up with the Holy Roman Empire himself. The Prussian Duke was there for business, and he'd taken Prussia along so he could talk to his older brother, hoping they could settle whatever had created the recent rift between them. He still didn't know what had happened, but it had gotten Prussia depressed and in a bad mood for months now, and it was about time it ended.  
The young teenager just curled up slightly. "I don't know," he croaked, feeling his stomach twist and his head pounding. "But it's something back home." He blinked open his red eyes for a moment, closing them again when his head only hurt more after he did that. Then he sighed and tried to figure out what these symptoms meant. "Headache..." he mumbled, half to himself. "So it's something political. Nausea can just be a reaction to the pain, or..." He trailed off, breathing deeply for a few moments. "Economy," he concluded after a little while. He opened his eyes again, but only halfway, and looked up at Albert. "I think some of the people once again aren't happy about the state the economy is in," he told him, feeling rather sure of himself that he was right. Most of the time, he could determine the meanings of aches or illness within his own body pretty well, and he could always tell the difference between an economy-induced cold or a true virus, and not just because the latter passed in a day, two at most.  
"A rebellion?" the Duke inquired further.  
Prussia nodded. "Could be."  
Dissatisfied, Albert muttered something under his breath. Prussia was just glad that it wasn't too bad yet: he knew from experience that rebellions could be bad enough to leave him stuck in bed for one or several days. This was just an annoying nuisance. _Before we reach Holy Rome and Sissy,_ he promised himself, _I'll be acting like I've never felt better again._ And he wasn't going to show either of his older family members that he was still bothered by how they treated him like a traitor. _Stupid Catholics,_ he muttered internally, narrowing his eyes in anger. _Thinking they know better than I do..._ First he was shocked at himself for thinking this, but then he sighed and told himself they probably thought the same of him... in a good mood.

When they entered Austria's house in Vienna, both human and country were met with the sound of beautiful piano music. Duke Albert was surprised at this for a moment, but Prussia wasn't as excited about it. "They have a court musician?" the human wondered out loud. "Very talented."  
"Nah," Prussia grumbled in response. "That's my sissy cousin, Austria."  
He heard his leader mumble in surprise to that, but he didn't listen. He just stepped forward into the house and called in his loudest voice: "Hey! Sissy shit! Holy Rome! You'd better get down here, Awesome and company have arrived!" The Duke didn't look pleased with that, but Prussia just looked over his shoulder at the man, daring him to lecture him about his attitude with a brief glare. The human held his stare for a moment, but without saying anything he looked up again when Austria and Holy Rome appeared at the top of a large staircase. They didn't look too pleased when they saw Prussia and, most of all, his cocky stare, but they hid it when they spotted his Duke standing right beside him.  
"Ah, Duke Albert," Holy Rome greeted the man with a polite dip of his head. He walked up to the human and halted in front of him. "The Emperor is not here as of yet, but he shall arrive shortly. If you wish, Austria here can take you to a room where you can wait for his arrival. Meanwhile, I myself can see to it that Prussia is kept busy as well," he added with a hint of mischief in his voice as he glanced at his little brother for a heartbeat. "I suppose you don't want him insulting the Emperor as well when he arrives."  
The Duke just answered that he would appreciate that, and Austria simply did as he was told and took him away.  
Holy Rome then looked at Prussia in silence, and with a nod of his head, told him to follow him into another room.

"Sit down, Prussia," the Empire told his little brother after closing the door. Prussia remained on his feet, staring at him in defiance. Holy Rome just sighed. "Or not, whatever you wish."  
Prussia thought he was being treated like a guest here for business rather than a sibling, and he hated it. Still he didn't say anything, and let Holy Rome figure out for himself that he'd crossed the line when he'd declared Prussia disloyal to him and his family like he had, and that he wouldn't be forgiven anytime soon.  
But Holy Rome just acted like nothing had happened, and like nothing was happening now, either. "Prussia," he just began, "you're on good terms with the Kingdom of Hungary, aren't you?"  
Prussia narrowed his eyes. "I suppose you could say that," he answered, his heartbeat picking up its pace at the mention of who was still his crush. And who still didn't know anything about that. "Why?"  
"You know how she's still in trouble with the Ottoman Empire?" Holy Rome just went on, and Prussia nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. "I'm sending more troops to aid her. Seeing as you're friendly with her already, I would send the Teutonic Order, but... that wouldn't have much effect for either of you, now would it?" He trailed off casually, sending anger sparking in Prussia's mind. He was _mocking_ him! "I think Bohemia will do a good job. The two Italies are sending troops from the Papal States. Poland will be aiding her, too. How many men will you send, Prussia? Surely you'll be helping your friend?"  
Prussia remained silent, gritting his teeth, his shoulders tense. He felt a low, almost animalistic growl rise up in his throat though, and he had difficulty not jumping on Holy Rome right then and there and beating him to a pulp.  
Holy Rome just glanced at him, eyes glinting, clearly liking how he could rile his little brother up like that. "No one?" he just inquired, feigning surprise and indignance. "Oh, Prussia, you don't want to send out the wrong message... not helping your long-time ally and friend might make it look like you don't care about your friendship. Now what would Hungary do if she thought you didn't care about her?"  
"I care more about Hungary than anyone else!" Prussia protested, unable to hold back his anger anymore. He knew he shouldn't react when people tried to piss him off like that, but he couldn't stop himself now, not when Hungary was involved in any way. "If I could convince my Duke, I would send every last man within my borders to aid her! If I were allowed, I would go to her all by myself, and I'd slay the Ottoman Empire all by myself as well, if it was to save her life! I would do _anything,_ if only I could!" Did Holy Rome seriously think Prussia was 'abadoning his loyalty' to _everyone_ he cared about? The bastard!  
But the older country just smirked at Prussia's answer, his eyes shining in a way that this was exactly the answer he'd expected and hoped to get. "I thought you'd say that," he said softly, not losing his calm demeanor. "You know, when my troops manage to beat off the Ottoman Empire, I think I might give her to Austria as a reward for his loyalty. Her royal family would be a good asset to the royal Habsburg bloodline, at that."  
By now, Prussia was seething with anger. Giving Hungary to Austria as a _reward?_ "She's not a trophy!" he yelled. "She's not an _item_ that you can give to people just like that! She's a _person,_ a wonderful, strong, independent _person!_ She won't appreciate it if you passed her around to your territories like that. If you even so much as _tried,_ expect an uprising within weeks." Narrowing his eyes, he added: "And I will be supporting her through every second of it."  
The Holy Roman Empire just laughed. "You really fancy her, don't you?" he asked, shaking his head in amusement. "I never thought I'd see the day my little brother would fall in love like this." He turned to look at Prussia again, his ice-blue eyes staring at him with an intense gaze. "You do know she's Catholic, right? You said you'd do anything for her: I take it changing your religion back to what it's _supposed_ to be is amongst those things? If you do, I might reconsider marrying her off to Austria when I get the chance."  
The tensity in Prussia's muscles hit its maximum, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore if he heard _one_ wrong word now. He knew he should ignore Holy Rome at this point, be way above his cruel tactics of getting what he wants, but his patience and restraint had given up the fight minutes before already. By now he was just looking for a reason to do exactly what he felt like doing now. "Why are you doing this?" he just asked, his voice edged with anger.  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
Well, there it was: that was all the reason he needed.

He had always been able to beat Holy Rome, but never with quite so much ease. The older but shorter boy wasn't prepared for Prussia's attack, and the white-haired country had to put in next to no effort to knock him to the ground. He pinned him to the floor with his legs and hips, then wrapped his hands tightly around his neck, blocking his airways. Holy Rome squirmed and struggled for a moment, trying to push him off, but Prussia only adjusted his grip so that he dug his nails into his brother's skin as well.  
The Holy Roman Empire seemed to decide to save what breath he had left, and stopped fighting back within seconds. Instead, he just looked up at Prussia, angry.  
But no amount of anger could ever match the pure rage that was making Prussia's blood boil at that moment. "Why?" he yelled in his brother's face. " _Why?!_ You have _no_ reason whatsoever to treat me like this! Give me _one_ good reason, because I don't know of any! I don't understand any of it!"  
"No, that much is clear," Holy Rome grumbled when Prussia loosened his grip just enough to let him breathe and speak. "But honestly, what is there to not understand?! It's not that hard!" At this, Prussia scoffed, and his older brother yelled at him, "For God's sake, Prussia, I have _plenty_ of reason to be angry with you! _A country turning Protestant!_ Do you even know what this means for me?"  
Prussia blinked once as, slowly, it began to dawn on him.  
Holy Rome explained it well enough even if it didn't. "Some members of our family, Prussia, are considering following your example - _my territories._ Do you have any inkling what that would do to me? Their disunity is like a death sentence already, and your betrayal only serves to speed up the process! I _need_ them to stay Catholic, or I'll be in a world of trouble! Do you get it now? _Do you?!_ "  
Shocked, Prussia let go of him again, though he stayed on top of him, unabling him of getting away still. He could understand that what Holy Rome was going through was frustrating to say the very least, but there was one thing he still didn't understand. Why would he blame his little brother for it?  
The question must have been clear in his eyes, for Holy Rome answered it, sounding calmer now that this was off his chest. "I always had a feeling that you would somehow be connected with the future of my empire," he said. "With the unity of my territories. I had my hopes set on you, Prussia: I thought _you_ would be what would save my life. Now I see it's quite the opposite. Your actions, to me, do more harm than they do good. I understand that you've spent a long time dealing with your own troubles, but you're a duchy now, and free of war with any country. Can't you for once do something for others as well? Change your religion back to Catholicism, show the others that being Protestant is _not_ the answer. Is that too much asked?"  
"But why would you treat me like this?" Prussia just asked, still angry with him for his harsh words. "You could've told me this months ago! But instead you made me feel hated and shunned by everyone."  
"It wasn't that bad, Prussia," Holy Rome snorted, unimpressed. "Sure, I may have been harsh, but don't make it sound worse than it is!"  
"Worse than it is?!" Prussia shrieked, all his anger rekindling with a vengeance, a million times worse than it was. "You bastard! Do you even realise that this has been my _life?_ Always being treated differently, always being distrusted and disliked by _everyone_ , just because of who I am! I haven't complained about it in ages, I know, but I _know_ it's all still there, the words whispered behind my back, the stares following me wherever I go!" He grabbed his older brother by the collar of his black cloak and shook him violently in the purest rage he'd ever felt. " _You_ were the person that trusted me from the beginning, _you_ were the older brother I could talk to and rely on, the only one I knew would never ever shun me like the rest of the world! _You took all of that away from me!_ And now you're telling me not to _exaggerate?!_ "  
The door behind them opened, and Prussia stiffened when he heard Austria's shocked voice ask him what the Hell he thought he was doing, attacking the Holy Roman Empire like that. He then got up, letting his older brother go again, turned around and left wordlessly. He wouldn't go far; he needed to be here again when his Duke had finished his business. But there was no way he would wait here _with them._

* * *

Time passed quickly now that Prussia was a Duchy. There _was_ a rebellion back home, but they managed to beat it down quickly once they got home. The people in Samland once again didn't agree with the way things were. They weren't happy about the taxes, nor about the sudden change in government. They claimed that they were not trying to oppose Duke Albert's rule, but he had the rebel leaders executed upon his return to Prussia, anyway. Prussia didn't really know what to think of that, but he shrugged it off. If it were his business, the Duke would have talked to him about it sooner. It did nothing to help his reputation, though, or Prussia's own for that matter. He was called a divided, sactarian land. He just let the comments wash over him whenever he spoke to other countries, and never said anything about it, only that they clearly didn't know his awesomeness yet to believe in such lies. But the words stung.  
Not many years had passed before the Duke had his first child: a little girl. Even though there was no way she could be the next in line to rule him, Prussia enjoyed watching her grow up, first alone and later alongside her little sisters. He also liked playing with the Duke's daughters; it was refreshing to have such energetic, positive-minded, cheerful kids around to chase around and tease. These children were special to him, as well: they were the first children a leader of his had ever had. Teutonic Grand Masters never married, let alone have children. He felt somehow more like a real country now that he had the chance to watch a new generation of leaders grow up. But it worried him as well. These were no leaders. So far, the Duke had only had daughters, and they could never succeed their father.  
Soon enough, Prussia talked to the Holy Roman Empire once more, and this time, they got over their fight. It would take time before Prussia would be able to forgive Holy Rome, or the other way around, if they ever would in the first place. But they realised that day that they were brothers, and were stuck with each other either way. And though he didn't know about Holy Rome, Prussia at least realised that through his anger and sense of betrayal, he had never stopped loving his big brother. The older country had helped him with so many things in the past, both national and personal situations. How could he not forgive him for a few months of slip-ups, after all that he had done for his little brother in the past?  
Austria was still an ass, though, but that had never been any different. He and Prussia had never seen eye-to-eye. What really got his blood boiling was that, when they finally managed to free Hungary from the Ottoman Empire, Holy Rome did go through with what he had said years before. Though he didn't quite marry her off to Austria, she was now in _his_ service instead of the Ottoman's. Prussia had been angry about that, telling his brother that it was no different from being with the Ottoman Empire. Holy Rome had huffed and replied that at least she was in a better place now than she had been, even if the circumstances weren't very different. Prussia eventually gave up and contented himself with the fact that it was now easier to get an excuse to visit Hungary: he could just say he would visit his family, 'trying to restore the relationship he had with Austria', even if there was nothing to restore there. It had never been good in the first place. Even better was the fact that Hungary didn't seem to like Austria very much either, though she was colder towards Prussia now, too. He hated that.  
Eventually, in his second marriage, Duke Albert had a son: Frederick Albert. A bright kid, and though he and Prussia weren't the closest together at first, by the time the boy was a teenager they got along much better already.  
In 1540, paganism was (once again) outlawed in the Duchy of Prussia by Bishop George of Polentz. Though it caused some uneasy times at first, Prussia was happy about it. Paganism had been the one thing he'd hated all his life, thank his upbringing for that.  
Soon after, in 1544, Duke Albert created the University of Konigsberg. Prussia loved everything about it, from the mere building to the fact that this meant his people could develop themselves better in the future without having to leave the country. He wanted to go there for some time, study and read as much as he could in his free time, but he wasn't allowed by the Duke: the human said he admired the country's eagerness to learn and become a wiser, better person through study, but his position as a country didn't leave him with the liberty to do so. He just didn't have the time to do so. Prussia would beg to differ, he had plenty of free time if the Duke didn't want him to hone his fighting skills again in that time. After so long, Prussia was glad to be fighting again, though, so it didn't feel like a total loss.

But all in all, not much changed after the transition from being the Teutonic State to being the Duchy of Prussia, not in the way he was ruled. Prussian nobility gained more influence over the peasants, and he had some more general development as a nation, but that was about all. Eventually, after a long and overall good leadership, Duke Albert passed away in 1568. Prussia was sad to see him go, and grieved for him more than he had for any other leader up till that point. But he was also proud to know that the man's son would succeed him, and would probably be just as fine a leader as his father had been before him.  
It wasn't until the year after his father died that Duke Frederick Albert rendered hommage to the Polish king, like all of Prussia's Dukes would do from now on. Prussia and Poland stood watching the ceremony side by side, both proudly watching the scene in front of them. Things between the two countries went more smoothly than they ever had, and they were both grateful for that fact. "May we see many more scenes exactly like this one," Poland said to Prussia under his breath, and the younger country only gave a short, barely noticeable nod.

Frederick Albert's leadership was not without worries for the young country, however. Worries that he'd never had before. The Teutonic Order may not have had a single family as their leader, but that also meant there would always be a Grand Master. The man would just have to be elected. But decades passed by, and eventually the second Duke of Prussia reached an age that left him with no hope of having any more children. And he had only daughters. There were no heirs to his position as Duke, and as he watched the human age, Prussia got distressed at that thought. What would happen now? He had thought there would be a long line of Hohenzollerns ruling over the relatively new Duchy for decades to come, and now it seemed that time had already come to an untimely end. At least the Duke's daughters were all married to decent men. The oldest was married to Elector John Sigismund of Brandenburg, also of the Hohenzollern family, cousin to the young woman. Frederick Albert would pass on his Duchy to that man when the day came he died, and thus Prussia was made to spend more time in Brandenburg's home to get to know his future ruler better. He didn't mind it much, since he really liked being with his cousin, but he would have prefered being able to get to know his future ruler inside his own borders, watching the human grow up from a boy into a man. That would've meant he was Frederick Albert's own son, and thus a much better heir to the Duchy. Brandenburg tried to tell him that the man would be a worthy heir, a good Duke, who would take proper care of the Duchy and the people of Prussia, and though the white-haired country did believe her, he could never truly accept the situation as well as he wanted to.

* * *

He was once again sad to watch his Duke grow old and tired, weakening over the years. By the year 1618, it was safe to say Duke Frederick Albert was on his deathbed.  
"Master Prussia," a middle-aged servant said one day, politely bowing to the country. "The Duke has requested your presence in his chambers."  
Prussia, having grown over the century until he was roughly 14 or 15 years old, turned to the man and nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I shall go right away," he answered, stifling a soft sigh. The Duke hardly left his chambers anymore these days. Death was clearly only days away now. Prussia made his way there as quickly as he could, sitting down by the man's bedside as the human requested the moment he came in.  
"Prussia, boy," he began, wheezing slightly with the effort of speaking. "Troubles are coming for you, and I am glad to know that you will have a good leader in John Sigismund when those troubles arrive."  
Prussia dipped his head. "I, too, am more grateful for that fact than I could ever say," he answered softly. "I hope you do not underestimate yourself, however: you have been nothing short of a great leader yourself."  
The old man managed a smile. "I'm glad you think so. One can only do their best." His expression got colder and more serious then, and he said, "But trust my words, Prussia: war is coming for Europe. I'm certain you can feel it." Prussia nodded. Tensions were rising between Europe's protestant population and the Catholics. He wasn't the only Protestant state anymore now: other Germanic states had followed his example, and the Netherlands had even gone into revolution over it, fighting back the Spanish rule in his country. He seemed to have succeeded so far, being in an armistice with Spain right now, but everyone knew the Protestant Netherlands and the Catholic Spain would soon clash again. And so would any country in Europe, over the same reasons: religion. Prussia had never wanted to believe in the bad side to the thing he had based his life on, but it was hard not to acknowledge it now.  
"By the time real war breaks out," Frederick Albert went on, "I hope I won't be around to witness it anymore. John Sigismund will lead you through it, boy. You and Brandenburg." Again, Prussia nodded, staying silent as his leader talked. "You will be under Personal Union with her. You know what that means, right?"  
They would share the same leader but remain seperate countries. They would have unified, most likely, if they had shared borders. In business-related moments, they would be known as Brandenburg-Prussia, but in truth they would stay completely seperate. He had been worried about losing his identity as the Duchy as Prussia at first, or die in the union, but then he reminded himself of the Personal Union Poland and Lithuania had been under for a long time: both were still around, and clearly two seperate countries. He had nothing to worry about.  
"And you are okay with it?" the Duke went on. "Come on, be honest."  
Prussia nodded.  
The old man sighed in relief. "Good. I thought you would have been opposed to the idea of marriage."  
"The idea of _marriage?!_ " Prussia exclaimed in shock then, jumping up from his chair. The old man looked startled, and then started explaining to Prussia that, from the day he died until the day the Personal Union would become official, Prussia and Brandenburg would be engaged to be wed. Making the union official would mean they'd get married. Against all odds, the white-skinned teenager managed to actually pale at this information, and he felt sick at the mere thought of it.  
 _Why has no one bothered to tell me this before?!_  
Little did he know that, many days of travel away, in some hall in Brandenburg, a certain girl was having the same reaction to this news.

Suddenly, both Prussia and Brandenburg were a lot less positive-minded about their future union as Brandenburg-Prussia.

* * *

 **Yup... Oh, I've so been looking forward to writing this moment! In Hetalia Canon, I ship Pruhun and also like PruIta a lot. But outside Hetalia Canon and inside Historical Canon, there's no union I love more than Brandenburg-Prussia! Especially mixed with Hetalia Canon... poor Prussia had sworn he hated anything to do with marriage!**

 **Ah well, what's done is done, and this was done nearly 400 years ago. No way this can ever be undone! (Like I want it to, ha!)**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading, and please leave a little review before you leave~!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A big thank you to TheBlueAcid and to Abc for the reviews, as always! And also to theempressofawesome, Reddawnfire, Yuuki-Megumi and ThatAwkwardPhase for the follows and favourites! I still can't get over the fact that so many people like this story... thank you all so much!**

 **Abc, I want to see these two awkward Germans get married as well... _will_ be great! (I hope! ':D )**

 **Anyways, I hope you'll all like the chapter!**

* * *

30 _May 1618_

 _Good news and bad news for me now. Bad news is that a new war has broken out in Europe a week ago, and already it looks like it's going to be pretty bad._  
 _Good news?_  
 _My wedding is postponed because of it. Not that either me or Brandenburg is fighting in this war or planning on it, but since it involves our family and surrounding lands... yeah. Hey, you don't hear me complaining! So long as it won't affect me too badly and it stops me from having to marry Brandenburg anytime soon, I'll be glad to see this war go on for years and years yet._  
 _Does that sound bad?_  
 _I suppose it does._

 _But I don't want to get married! Not to Brandenburg, not to anyone! Hell, I wouldn't even want to marry Hungary. Not yet, at least. I'm only just a teenager... and Brandenburg is my cousin. Not that either of those are an issue as far as the humans behind this are concerned. They marry their teenage children off to their cousins all the time. It's an issue to me, though, and to Brand. But we really don't have any say in any of this._  
 _Blast it. The Awesome Me should be allowed to choose his own wife!_  
 _Or rather, whether or not to have a wife at all, I swear!_

Still, despite all his protests, Prussia was made to go to Berlin to live with Brandenburg there already. He'd had a chance to speak to Poland before he had to leave, and had used opportunity to ask the older country about his own Personal Union. After all, he and Lithuania hadn't been living together for all he knew. Most importantly, they hadn't been married at all. Poland just told him that, of course they hadn't been, since they were both guys. Though that wasn't an issue for everyone, either, he added, refering to the marriage between France and Scotland, which had ended just over half a century ago.  
"But they weren't even under Personal Union!" Prussia had protested. "That was an alliance -why should _I_ have to marry, just because of some stupid union?"  
"Why did they have to marry, just because of some stupid alliance?" Poland had countered, taking it all a lot less seriously than Prussia was. "Answer: because your leader decided so. If he thought you'd be better off settled down and married to some nice little margraviate, then stop complaining and do so. Though, with you, I don't think you'll do much of the 'settling down' part, married or not."  
"But I don't _want_ to," Prussia had whined, feeling more childish than he had for a long time just because of his own tone at that moment, and he internally slapped himself for sounding like that.  
Poland only got amused and snickered for a moment. "Aww, is mr Awesome getting cold feet?"  
"Am not!"  
Poland had only chuckled again and patted him on the shoulder, sending him away. "Off you go," he had said, forcing the struggling teenager into a carriage -of which the doors would be locked to prevent his escape. "Your fiancee is waiting for you."

* * *

 _My fiancee._ The words echoed in Prussia's head as he arrived in Berlin and saw Brandenburg sitting outside, talking to Saxony, who was apparently there for a visit. He would probably never get used to the idea. He approached the two of them tentatively, and Saxony was the first to spot him. The older country gave him his usual greeting: a grin and a wave. Brandenburg looked up, and Prussia glanced at her for a moment, but when their gazes met they both looked away quickly, embarassed. Saxony only laughed at the uncomfortable tension between them.  
"Aw, come on, you're not married yet!" he told them when Prussia had finally decided to sit down beside them -meaning, he sat beside Saxony, Brandenburg on the Saxon's other side, so that they didn't have to see each other. Saxony just leaned back so they sat in each other's view again. Brandenburg went red at this, huffed and looked away.  
Prussia felt somewhat disappointed by that. They used to be such great friends... and now this marriage might destroy their friendship. "Not yet, no," he grumbled in response to Saxony, looking away as well. "But unfortunately we will."  
"Unfortunately!" Brandenburg echoed under her breath, sounding shocked and hurt at his words. But she didn't react to it otherwise.  
Saxony glanced at her for a moment, then looked over at Prussia with a grimace and a shimmer in his eyes that clearly said ' _bad choice of words there, mate!_ '. Prussia couldn't care less at the moment. He then forced a smile again and patted both countries on their backs. "Well, cheer up! Sure, marriage sucks, but at least you know you love each other!"  
"I do," Brandenburg answered without missing a beat, still not looking at either of the two. "But not quite like that, thank you. Not in a way that I want him to be my fiance."  
"Same here," Prussia just added. Wrong words again.  
Brandenburg turned around to look at him now, her eyes narrowed and a nasty edge to her voice as she said accusingly, "Oh, yeah, because you would _so much rather_ marry Hungary instead!" She huffed again and added angrily, "Of course you can't love anyone -your heart is already reserved for her, isn't it?"  
Prussia tensed at those words, wondering how she had guessed that. Then he realised that Holy Rome had been well aware of his crush for nearly a century or more. Austria probably knew about it through him, and the same went for other German states. His heart skipped a beat when he realised Hungary herself might have heard about it through either one of them, and he nearly cringed. _Oh, please, Gott, anything but that..._ But Brandenburg's words got him thinking. He was still speaking of a 'crush', when said crush had lasted for well over two centuries already. Now that he thought about, it could hardly be described as a mere crush anymore at this point. It had probably evolved into love somewhere along the way. One-sided as it had ever been and would always be. He'd given up hope a century ago.  
But still, he didn't see the connection between that and the situation at hand. More importantly, he didn't see why Brandenburg would be bothered by it. "You're ridiculous," he sneered. "You just told me you don't want to marry me, that you don't love me any other way than a friend or a cousin or whatever the Hell you meant, and now you're telling me that how I feel about someone else is a _problem?_ "  
"It _is_ a problem," Brandenburg said, getting up indignantly, still glaring at Prussia, "if it makes it impossible for this union to work out properly -which it does!" Then she spun around and stomped away, leaving Saxony and Prussia to stare after her in sheer confusion.  
The two teenage boys looked at each other for a moment, wide-eyed and still confused. Then saxony just shrugged. "Women," he mumbled casually, as if that one word explained the entire situation. "Don't take any notice of her mood, she must be on her period."  
"Her what?"  
"...You have a lot left to learn if you're to marry a girl, Prussia."

* * *

 _14 June 1618_

 _So, after a two-week course on the Awkward World of Women, taught by Saxony with Duchess Anna and two of her daughters, Anna Sophia and Maria Eleonora as guest teachers... I am now positive that I do not want to marry. Ever. To have to deal with crazy women-antics every month? No, thank you very much, sir. And going by what the women told me and what I remember of my own experiences with women in that situation, can I just thank you now, God, that it is next to impossible for countries to get pregnant? At least I'll never have to deal with that, other than in my leaders!_  
 _...Wow, did my mind really just wander off in that direction?_ _Really_ _?_  
 _This isn't healthy for me... just send me off to war, where I know I'll be awesome no matter what happens. Right now would be a good moment._

But he wasn't sent off to the war. Not once, not even to discuss tactics with the troops. Because there were no troops. Brandenburg-Prussia stayed out of the war that was raging in Europe right now, much to his dismay. He had no excuse to leave now.  
But the wedding didn't take place yet, not for months on end, and that at least came as a relief to both Prussia and Brandenburg. But still, Prussia had to live with Brandenburg for a year, and he hated it. Well, at first. It wasn't so bad anymore after the first months, when they started to get used to it. Prussia had never been so happy to be a fief to Poland as he was when he heard that he'd be spending time back in his own land as well. But that time was a while away yet -first the union needed to become official, so they could at least say that _that_ business was over and done with, because that was the main thing both countries needed to do now.  
The union did _not_ become official as quickly as they feared it would, however. Because by 1619 already, John Sigismund was dead.

Both young Germans stood stunned when they heard the news. Brandenburg looked horrified; her leader hadn't even been that old.  
Prussia, on the other hand, broke the shocked silence that had fallen with a hopeful mumbling. "Does that mean the wedding is _canceled?_ "  
Immediately, Brandenburg smacked him over the back of his head, fuming. "You don't say stuff like that, you idiot!" she scolded him with a frown. Though then she huffed and looked away again, adding under her breath: "Though I certainly hope so."  
The now-widowed Duchess Anna shot them both a correctional glare, then muttered, "It is most certainly _not_. Other than my father, John Sigismund did not die without a son. _He_ will take his father's place. The union is definitely postponed, but not _canceled_ altogether." She sighed, looking away, sadness shimmering in her eyes. "I just wish the two of you could be more positive about your marriage. All this negativity won't do anyone good; it most certainly doesn't help my husband to try and rest peacefully now, having to look at his two countries squabling all the time before their union is even made official..." She sighed again and walked away, leaving the two young countries to stare at each other guiltily.

"This is your fault, Prussia, you do know that?" Brandenburg muttered eventually, frowning again.  
He just rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "And why would it be _my_ fault that she's simply grieving for her dead husband?" he asked, not even waiting for a response. "I know that wasn't the most sensible thing I've ever said, but just admit it, Brand: you were thinking the exact same thing."  
The teenage girl huffed and crossed her arms, not answering that. She let her shoulders hang in defeat and looked at Prussia over her shoulder, her dark blue eyes filled with emotion. "We have to make this union work, Prussia," she told him, voice flat, not reflecting any of the emotions in her eyes at that moment. "For John Sigismund's sake. And Duke Frederick Albert's. For _each other._ " She blinked once. "We'll be stuck with each other for God knows how long. Maybe forever. So let's at least _try_ to make it work. It's not like we dislike each other; so why have we been fighting all year long?"  
Prussia shook his head, feeling his mood being severely affected by the news of this death and, especially, the reactions these two women had to it, and to the idea of Brandenburg-Prussia. If Anna and Brandenburg would be this depressed and sad all the time, how could he stay awesome and cheerful? They probably just dragged him down now. "I don't dislike you at all," he answered, then confessed, "quite honestly, I love you, Brand. But not _like that_. Nowhere close to it. I love you as my friend, as my cousin. I don't want you as... as my _wife._ " He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze for a moment, feeling the now-familiar anger at this situation well up inside his heart once again. "That's the only thing I hate about this: we're being forced into something neither of us wants. We have such an awesome relationship as _just_ friends, _just_ cousins. Why wouldn't that union be good enough for them? Why make us marry, and risk ruining that relationship? This _marriage_ is the only thing that will be a danger to the strength of this union, why don't these stupid, un-awesome humans see that?"  
"I agree," Brandenburg sighed, "but what can we do about it? Prussia, nothing has to change when we get married," she added, turning around completely and looking at him with a hopeful shimmer in her eyes. "We can just say those damned vows and then continue on like we're doing now; we won't be expected to _act_ like a married couple. At least I don't think so."  
Prussia smiled now, for once assured that this wouldn't be the end of his life. Not completely. "That's an idea mr Awesome can agree to, I suppose."  
"All right, mr Awesome," Brandenburg then said with a grin and a giggle. "Then the deal is struck. But tell me one thing: if you're mr Awesome, then when we're married, does that mean I'll be mrs Awesome?"  
"If you want to be," Prussia just answere with a grin, holding back laughter himself.  
"Awesome," the girl answered shortly, walking past Prussia. She halted for a moment beside him, got onto her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm looking forward to it; I do expect you to adress me as such when the day comes!" Then she walked away with a brief, mischievous giggle, leaving Prussia stunned again for a few heartbeats.  
He guessed his face must be as red as his eyes at that moment, and his heart skipped a beat after Brandenburg had kissed him like that -thank God it was an innocent little peck on the cheek, appropriate for two cousins and not so much for two engaged countries. Didn't make it less awkward. When he didn't feel quite as paralysed anymore, he quickly spun around and called after her. "That was so un-awesome, I might just reconsider my decision!"  
"Too late, you already said 'yes'!"

* * *

Two years passed, and Prussia had spent one of them in total back in his own land, though only a half of that year did he spend alone: Brandenburg had been in Konigsberg with him for half a year, trying to get used to living there as well, as they would somtimes be in Konigsberg, sometimes be in Berlin. Prussia did still have to spend time close to Poland, being his fief. It was starting to feel natural to see each other every day. In fact, after some weeks on his own again, after he'd enjoyed the solitude for a while, Prussia woke up in an empty home and actually felt... somewhat lonely. He had never really minded being alone, or at least, that's what he told himself, but he had to admit that waking up in the morning and knowing you'd have someone to talk to that day felt good as well. Perhaps even better.  
He still liked Konigsberg best, but Berlin was starting to grow on him as well. But of course, nothing could top the capital of Awesomeness.  
Neither of the two countries participated in the religious war going on, and they weren't planning to. Prussia had to admit, it wasn't all that bad to not have to worry about his own people and his own health when there was a war of this scale going on. Because damn was it getting messy.  
He did have to worry about Brandenburg, though: though she stayed out of the war, she was invaded sometimes. With a prickle of fear, Prussia realised one day that he, too, could feel it when she was invaded. A mere sore spot on his body, dull pain, but he felt it. They really were starting to get used to the whole union thing, even if it wasn't official yet.

One morning, Brandenburg wouldn't get out of her room, and Prussia had decided to check up on her (meaning: he had been told to do so). Carefully he knocked on her door and softly called her name. She didn't answer. Instead, he heard a soft sniffling, and with a sigh and his heart thumping in his throat, he opened the door. Oh, God, he really couldn't deal with crying girls. Hell, he was just about starting to learn how to deal with girls in the first place! And he wasn't exactly an expert, even he had to admit to that, no matter the consequences it had for his sense of dignity. But that sense of dignity would've been shattered even more if he had walked away now. He couldn't just leave his fiancee on her own, not if she was in trouble of any kind. What kind of a lousy friend would he be, then? He was too awesome to walk away now, no matter how much his feet itched to turn around and leave.  
"Brand?" he repeated softly as he opened the door slowly and peered inside. "Brand, are you all right?"  
The girl sat on her bed, back turned to Prussia, knees pulled up to her chest and sniffling softly. With her right hand she was clutching her left upper arm, and Prussia could see a small bloodstain underneath her fingers.  
And that's when he realised she was still dressed in only her underdress. _Oh, boy, talk about awkward,_ he thought with a shiver going down his spine. But then he shook his head and walked inside. It's not like she was naked, she was just... in her underwear. But that was still a dress, so it wasn't... a problem. Not awkward at all. No, of course not. He was mr Awesome, he could handle a girl in her underdress. Especially if that girl was the future mrs Awesome.  
 _...no, that thought didn't help._  
He sighed and walked over to her side, sitting down beside her. "Brand," he said once again. "What's the matter?"  
She just gritted her teeth but kept her eyes closed. "T-they've attacked me _again_!" she choked out, rage dripping from her voice.  
Prussia nodded, then laid his hand on her shoulder. "Let me see that for a moment, all right?" She just huffed and nodded, moving her hand away. The fabric of her sleeve was dark and sticky with blood, and stuck to her arm, making it impossible for him to see the size of the cut. It couldn't be very big, though. "Surely that's not enough to cry over?" he mused, tracing the edges of the bloodstain with one fingertip.  
Brandenburg stiffened at that comment. "It's not the cut that I'm angry about, if that's what you're implying," she said sharply, her tongue like a sword, just as he was now used to. Living with her all this time had sure shown him her other side: the no-nonsense, tough girl that wouldn't take no for an answer if it wasn't in her favour. She wasn't physically strong, but her willpower was all the greater, and what she couldn't do with weapons, she could with her words. He admired that aspect of her: even though she couldn't fight well, she won plenty of the battles she got into simply by using her wits and her sharp tongue. She looked at Prussia now, blue eyes gleaming with anger. "It's what the cut means that I'm angry about! I'm trying to stay out of this war, and yet I'm still being attacked all the time! What did I do to deserve this?"  
"You became Protestant," Prussia told her with a sigh. "Trust me, that's enough for them."  
Brandenburg snorted and muttered something. Then she got up and walked over to her wardrobe. She froze before she opened it, however, and said without even looking at Prussia over her shoulder, "You know, mr Awesome... we're not married quite yet. It's bad enough that you've seen me like this - _get out right now._ " She then turned around to look at him, a smile back onto her face. "I do appreciate you coming to check on me, though, even though I really doubt that you did so on your own initiative."  
Feeling the blood rise to his face, Prussia quickly nodded, got up and walked out of the room, before he could make a blushing, stammering fool of himself.  
 _I'll never live through this marriage... it'll kill me out of sheer embarassment!_

The two got some more time to get used to the idea and to each other, though. A lot more time, in fact. Because it wasn't until another two years had passed and the year 1623 came around that John Sigismund's son rendered hommage to the Polish king like his predecessors before him, and this time, Poland and Prussia were accompanied by Brandenburg to witness it.  
When the ceremony was over, Poland leaned in closer to the two Germans with a mischievous smirk. "I hope you have prepared for your wedding? You have a month left to do so."

Just a month until the end of their lives as they knew it.  
But, they both had to admit, it wouldn't be quite as bad as it would've been, had they married all the way back in 1618. They sure had needed the time to adjust to the idea.

 _Still sucks, though._

* * *

 **So, next chapter will be the big day! Poor kids! XD  
Now, as you might've figured out, the war they're going on about is the Thirty Years' War, one of the greatest, most deadly wars in European history. I think you might even count them in the same category as the two World Wars when it comes to (percentages of) lives lost.  
Brandenburg-Prussia didn't fight on either side, Catholic or Protestant (though it was a Protestant state) but was occassionally invaded by both sides. Now I might be mistaken here, as I haven't spent a long time studying up on the Thirty Years' War yet, but I think Brandenburg-Prussia suffered one of the greastes losses (major loss of people) in the entire war despite not fighting (or at least not much). That's pretty awful... Trying to stay out of something but still being hurt like that.**

 **Ah well. History _is_ awful. But also a wonderful thing to learn about. Helps you to understand the world as it is now.**

 **I hope you liked the chapter, and thanks for reading~!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hiya! I'm back!**

 **I tried to make this chapter as funny as I possibly could, for soon enough, shit will go down. So enjoy the possible laughter while you still can! ;)**

 **Potatah, thanks for the favourite and follow! Abc and TheBlueAcid, as per usual, thanks so much for the reviews!**

 **I hope you'll enjoy~!**

* * *

 _14 July 1623_

 _Days of Madness: 17_  
 _I do not know if I can keep this up much longer. Madness is eating away at my soul, and I do not believe I can live to see another day, for today is_ _the day_ _. The Apocalypse has come, and I have no means of survival in this doom. I suppose I always knew this day would come, that I would one day perish, but I had never thought it would be before I even reached adulthood._  
 _I can hear the voices outside my door, trying to reach me, but I have safely secluded myself here -they will not get to me, not so easily. The four biblical Horsemen of the Apocalypse they are, trying to lead me to my inevitable doom. But I shall stall them as long as I can._

 _This may well be my last journal entry. I hope that, in the post-apocalyptic world that will succeed this day, there will be a person who will stumble upon my writings. I pray that my efforts of recording centuries of history will not have been for naught._

 _Goodbye, cruel world. I must face my doom like the knight I am._

"Prussia!" one of the voices came again. "Prussia, I will not stand for this! Come out immediately or we will break the door in."  
The Prussian gritted his teeth and grabbed his sword, glaring murder at the barricaded door. Briefly he glanced at his writing table, where his journal lay open, the fresh ink on the pages drying, quill beside it, still dripping ink as he had hastily put it aside. Had he written all he wanted to? Was this sufficient? It must be. "Break it in, then!" he dared them, with maybe a little too much determination in his voice, for mere seconds later, all four men stood in front of him: the Prince-Elector of Brandenburg and Duke of Prussia, the Priest that was to marry Prussia to Brandenburg, the Polish King and the Holy Roman Emperor.  
"Prussia, for God's sake," his Duke sighed, eyeing the sword his country held in his hand. "Is this really necessary?"  
Prussia held his sword higher, defensively, and took a step back. "It is," he grumbled. "It's my life at stake here, I need to protect myself!" He let the end of the sword go in everyone's direction, and the Polish King gasped in horror when he even pointed it at the Priest. "Prussia! One does _not_ point a weapon at a holy man!"  
"Oh, but he is not a holy man," Prussia answered, taking another step away from them. "He is Death, here to end my life." Then he swung his weapon in the Prince-Elector's direction again. "And you, _Duke_ , are War, wreaking havoc and chaos."  
The human blinked in surprise for a moment, but then he figured out what Prussia was talking about, he just sighed and let his shoulders hang, his face downcast in utter shame at his Duchy's behaviour.  
"The Four Horsemen, eh?" the Holy Roman Emperor mumbled. "I must say I'm somewhat relieved even a Protestant still knows his Biblical tellings. Tell me, young Prussia, who must we be, according to you?" he added, gesturing to the Polish King and himself.  
Prussia just hesitated for a moment, then decided. "You are Famine," he told the Emperor, "orchestrating the entire destruction, and you are Plague," he added to the Polish man. "Causing Death to come for me and further supporting the doom that is soon to befall on me."  
The four men looked at each other in silent surprise for a moment; Prussia wasn't all wrong, in fact. The new ruler of Brandenburg-Prussia was indeed the one organising this 'doom', the Polish King _had_ brought a Priest of Polish origins with him, and the Emperor was one of the people allowing it all to happen.  
"The boy has a creative mind," the Priest eventually said, "nothing wrong with that. But this madness needs to stop. Prussia, if you would be so kind as to put your weapon down."  
In all his nervousness, fear and anger, Prussia couldn't _not_ listen to a Priest, and he put his sword away. Though not without a huff, a mutter under his breath and some angry glances in the man's direction.  
"Good," the Duke sighed. "Oh, good. Prussia, we need you to be ready in three hours, and it's not going to work if you keep on resisting like this. The more you struggle, the longer it will take. Just listen to what you're told and let it all be over with soon, I beg of you."  
"You're the one making it hard on yourself," the Polish human then added with a hard but understanding stare. "If only you would follow orders for once, Prussia, you wouldn't have to suffer at all."  
"The wedding has already been postponed once again," the Emperor then told him. "Be glad that it's happening _today,_ and that you do not have it laying ahead of you anymore after today. By tomorrow, it will all be a thing of the past."  
"Yeah," Prussia muttered, disbelief dripping from his voice. "All in the past, except, of course, that Brandenburg and I will be made to wear _nice_ , matching _wedding bands_ and can officially refer to each other as 'wife' and 'husband'."  
"That's something inevitable, Prussia," the Duke then said. He turned around, walking away again. The three other men followed him out without another word, and when they had left, they revealed another four people in the doorway. Four people much more familiar to Prussia, though he couldn't say he was more glad to see these than the humans that had left just now.  
"Honestly, Prussia," Austria mumbled, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You're so over-dramatic sometimes."  
Poland and Holy Rome didn't even look at him, both scowling, clearly ashamed at being related to the teenager in any way, whether is be a blood bond or a national one.  
Saxony was shaking with silent laughter, staring at Prussia with twinkling eyes. Eventually he even became a little teary-eyed and burst out laughing. "Sweet mother of God!" he choked out inbetween his laughter. "Prussia, now what should we tell Brandenburg? That we had to drag you out of your room on your wedding day? She'll be sooooo pleased, knowing you didn't even want to leave your bedroom!" The Saxon didn't even try to silence himself until Holy Rome shot him an accusing glare that told him to shut up right away.  
"She is already nearly done preparing, you know," the Empire told his little brother; even though there was a war going on, at least the entire Germanic family would be there for the wedding. Poland, too, as he still owned Prussia. And Hungary as well, as she still belonged to Austria and wasn't to be left alone in his home until she stopped trying to escape. "The girls are with her, and we were sent here to retrieve you and help you prepare."  
"Meaning," Poland added, rolling his dark green eyes, "that we're here to _force_ you to prepare, as everyone knows you would never do so of your own accord."  
Holy Rome nodded. "Brandenburg isn't looking forward to your marriage any more than you are," he scolded his little brother, who was in fact at least a few good inches taller than him already. "But at least your fiancee has the sense to not resist. If only you had _half_ that sense, Prussia..." He trailed off and shook his head, walking towards Prussia and grabbing him by the arm. "Now, come on, you need to get ready."

* * *

Brandenburg sighed, standing in front of a full-sized mirror.  
Almost immediately, she got a slap on the shoulder from behind. "Do not sigh like that, you'll make it harder for me to tighten this corset!" Bavaria scolded her. "And then it'll only hurt you more."  
"How can it be harder to squeeze my insides out when I've just breathed all air out of my lungs?" Brandenburg just muttered, though she went back the the shallow breathing Bavaria had instructed her to do for now. She was looking forward to the corset almost even less than to her wedding itself; she was used to wearing wider clothes, much to the annoyance of her royal family through the ages. Back when she was a child, they had been more okay with it than they were now that she was a teenager, though. She was nearly at the end of her road to womanhood, they told her, and she had to start acting like it. _Dressing_ like it first of all.  
"Because you'll tighten your muscles if you sigh," Bavaria told her. "Now hold on just a second..." Suddenly, the cloth tightened around Brandenburg's ribs and seemed to squeeze her insides out just as she had predicted, and the girl coughed and gasped for breath, only to find it was practically impossible to draw in breath.  
"My lord!" she choked out. "This will be the death of me!"  
"Don't whine," Bavaria said, finishing up tying the corset down. "It's not so bad once you're used to it. And keep your breathing shallow, just as I instructed."  
Panicking because of lack of oxygen, Brandenburg tried. Soon enough, she felt better already, and she softly thanked her younger sister. Bavaria was a lot more used to being the girl she was than her older sister, that was for sure.  
"It would've been even worse if you'd had bigger breasts, you know," Bavaria just told her with a sympathetic smile despite her harsh words earlier. "Puts more pressure on the ribs; be glad you're nearly flat-chested."  
Brandenburg huffed, but then regretted it. Good God, a corset was what restrained women in their daily lives and kept them so meek! They _couldn't_ oppose their husbands if even _huffing_ could break their ribs -at least that's what it felt like. "For the record," she protested to her younger sister -who was in fact a little more endowed than Brandenburg was. "I am _not_ 'flat-chested'. But I _am_ glad not to have a build like you, Hungary," she added to the older teenager, sitting a little way off in the room. "Is this why you kept dressing like a guy for so long?"  
"It's definitely one of the reasons," Hungary answered with a sigh -Brandenburg would have to ask her how she managed to be the rebellious girl she was in this oxygen-robbing contraption of death. "But the main reason was that I thought I was a guy until relatively recently. Stuff happens when no one bothers to tell you what's going on when you reach puberty -or to even tell you about your gender before that." She chuckled. "Had a good time, though. A lot more freedom than the two of you got in life, that's for sure!"  
"Yeah, yeah, you'd rather be on a horse with a bow in your hands, we know," Bavaria muttered, trying to unfold her sister's weddingdress. "Now could you help me with this? How am I supposed to help her get into this thing on my own? She couldn't even begin to help me herself -I believe you've never seen a dress made out of this many layers, have you, Brandenburg?"  
The teenager eyed the heap of white-and-cream fabric, and couldn't even make out a basic shape as her sister was still straightening it out. "Is that a single dress?" she choked out, her corset preventing her from exclaiming the words like she'd wanted to.  
"One piece of cloth," Bavaria laughed. "Yup. Time to get you into it!"

It took a fair amount of time of struggle and the combined efforts of Bavaria and Hungary to get Brandenburg into the dress and make it look neat rather than messy, but when they were done, Brandenburg could only stare at her own reflection, stunned.  
"Well?" Bavaria asked, a shiver in her voice betraying her excitement. "How do you like it?"  
"This..." Brandenburg mumbled absent-mindedly, plucking at the dress a bit. "This is just so not me..." She turned around a bit, looking at both her own sides and trying to look at the back of the dress as well. "But I must admit, I do not dislike it altogether... just mostly." She frowned. "The dress looks okay, I guess, but it just doesn't fit with the rest of me."  
"Because of that messy mop of hair, obviously," Hungary then said with a grin. "I'll take care of that for you -some braids on the sides, joining at the back. That's how I usually wear it when I'm out hunting -looks pretty good actually. Of course, I'll braid some jewelry into your hair for you now; this is a wedding after all, not a hunting trip."  
 _Jewelry in my hair?_ Brandenburg just wondered as he let Hungary do her thing. _What madness have I gotten into?_ Meanwhile she watched as Bavaria was grabbing a necklace for her sister to wear to finish it off.  
Brandenburg had to admit she was pleased with the end result. She could hardly recognise herself when she looked in the mirror. She actually loved what Hungary had done with her hair; she might start wearing it in a simplified version of that more often, she thought.  
"See, sis?" Bavaria told her with a wide smile. "You're gorgeous!"  
Hungary nodded slowly, agreeing. "You do look rather beautiful like this," she said after a short silence. "I'm sure Prussia won't make a fuss anymore when he sees you like this."  
"You think so?" Bavaria asked the Hungarian, her mood a lot darker at the mention of her much disliked cousin. "I don't think anything will stop that man from declaring this day the worst of his life. He doesn't appreciate my sister nearly as much as she deserves."  
"I've known him longer and better than you," Hungary just answered with a shrug. "Trust me, he may be an idiot around girls, he definitely does like the look of a good-looking one. Not that I find myself so handsome, but you should've seen his face when he even saw _me_ in a dress for the first time! Blushing away, the awkward little fool."  
At this, Brandenburg stiffened, but when the two other girls looked at her in surprise, she forced herself to relax again and smiled at them. "Just nerves," she told them. "Don't worry."  
"Nerves are only natural, I suppose," Bavaria sighed with a short nod. "Just know that, whatever the fool says, Prussia is lucky to have you."  
Brandenburg nodded and thanked both girls for their assistance and their compliments. Then she just asked if they could leave her alone for a few more minutes until they would take her to the church where it was all going to take place.

She sat down with a soft sigh, figuring out how to sit to not be crushed by the corset. Why did it bother her so much whenever she heard any mention of Prussia's affections for Hungary? Well, of course, they were supposed to get married today, but...  
"Don't tell me I'm beginning to like the idiot," she muttered to herself. She didn't love him and she never would, she was certain of that. But she also couldn't deny that, in the years they had spent living together so far, she had come to care for him more than she used to. She hoped Prussia felt the same -that was what would make the union a strong one. And with a Catholic-Protestant war going on right now, a strong union was vital.  
Most of all she liked the fact that she had seen the softer side of her fiance the past years. She'd seen him in trouble himself before, and those had been the 'softest' moments she had ever seen him in -still protesting that he was fine on his own when he wasn't. He was a boasting little prick, but also really caring. He was lonely, and she was glad she could be a companion to him, if only to cheer him up.  
What did he think about her? She still didn't know. Here she was, little more than an hour away from marrying this other country, and she didn't even know how he felt about her, other than that he didn't dislike her. "This is going to be awful," she mumbled, feeling miserable for a moment, then getting up and joining Bavaria and Hungary again.

* * *

"I hope you remember my dancing lessons?" Austria asked as he, Holy Rome, Poland and Saxony dragged Prussia into the church. "Small weddings may not be accompanied by a ball, but this is a union between nations -of the same calibre as marriage between two humans of royal blood. You will be expected to dance, you know that."  
Prussia gritted his teeth and sighed. "The question isn't whether I remember your lessons," he grumbled, "it's whether I'll ever manage to forget them again." A shiver went down his spine as he remembered the dancing lessons his older cousin had given him, putting aside his hate for the Prussian and the fact they were practically at war together in order to teach him some 'sophisticated manners' and dancing. It was so that Prussia wouldn't embarass Brandenburg completely on their weddingday, the Austrian had claimed. Enemies in this current war and on religious fields or not, he cared about Brandenburg and wanted to make sure she didn't have to be ashamed of her new husband already a minute after they'd said their vows.  
Prussia thought it had been just to annoy him. Probably was.  
"And I hope you've listened to us explaining how the ceremony will go," Holy Rome then added, looking up at Prussia. "So you won't make a fool of yourself and Brandenburg."  
"We'll see," Prussia just grumbled once again.  
"Also, if you were to speak some words in Polish, just to let everyone know that you're still _my_ territory, that would be, like-"  
"Forget it."  
"Suit yourself."

Once inside the church, Prussia was horrified to find that most of his family was indeed there already, as well as some humans. _Oh, God, why...!_ He sighed and tried not to look anyone in the eye, and didn't walk up to his spot near the altar yet. Hell, he had time to do some awesome calming techniques so that he could stand there looking awesome rather than like a fool. Suddenly he heard footsteps coming up behind him, and he turned around and looked. In front of him stood an older teenager, 16 or 17 years old, he guessed, with a tan skin and dark hair that told him he was mediterranean. "Now who the crap are you?" he couldn't help but blurt out, looking at the boy in surprise. This sure wasn't family of his.  
The teenager snorted. "How rude. I was just going to introduce myself, you know." Then he cleared his throat and looked down at the Prussian with his green eyes. "I'm Spain, here because I'm affiliated with your brother, Holy Rome. Also," he added more softly with a glance to his left. Prussia followed his gaze and noticed that he was staring at Netherlands with narrowed eyes. "I'm also here to keep an eye on _Holanda_ there. Never mind his protests, I own the kid."  
"Not anymore, _klootzak,_ " was Netherlands's flat answer without even looking at Spain. "Just give up and let me be."  
Spain huffed at the Dutch boy's words. "What shameful people you Germans are," he muttered. "Profanity in a church, twice in less than a minute!"  
"Well, don't feel obligated to stay here amidst these 'shameful people'," Prussia just said, narrowing his eyes at the Spaniard. "You're free to leave whenever you wish."  
"If only."  
"Prussia!" came the voice of Holy Rome, sounding agitated. "Just take your place, you fool! Brandenburg will be here shortly." The older country gave his younger brother a warning glance, then looked at Spain. "And it would be appreciated if you sat down as well and didn't pay attention to Netherlands. Tomorrow the war will resume, but today we're here for a wedding. Act like it." Then he turned around and sat down, not looking at either of the two countries anymore.  
"Bossy little bugger, isn't he?" Spain said with a soft chuckle, then giving Prussia a firm pat on the shoulder. "Well, go on, then. Don't look so scared; it's a wedding, not a war to fight."  
"If only it were," Prussia just sighed, allowing himself to look as miserable as he felt for just a heartbeat. "At least I know how to handle those."  
Suddenly he was yanked up from behind, and he just about managed to not yelp in surprise. Twisting around, he saw Hesse had picked him up and was carrying him to his spot near the altar, where the priest was already waiting. He just dropped him there, gave him a silent pat on the head, then walked off and sat down beside Holy Rome. Prussia scowled as he looked at the two of them, but his expression softened when he saw his older brother once again in a bad state. He was looking paler than usual lately, and Prussia figured it must be because of the war. The tall and broad-shouldered Hesse, the only one in the family who looked like an adult rather than a teenager or a kid, looked almost like a bodyguard to this frail-looking Empire, sitting next to him like that. Maybe he was -Holy Rome had plenty of enemies sitting here in this church with him, family though they were.

Prussia only stood there for a few minutes before Brandenburg walked in. At first all eyes had been turned on him, then there had been a few soft conversations in the church, then the doors opened and all eyes were turned on Brandenburg instead, even Prussia's. For a moment, he though his eyes would pop out of his head. He'd always thought Brandenburg wasn't anything special to look at, not exactly the most handsome features he'd seen on a girl, not exactly anything special about the way she dressed or kept her shoulderlength brown hair. She certainly wasn't bad to look at, but also nothing special.  
But by God, was she beautiful when she walked in like that. Bavaria and Hungary had done a seriously good job. Only when he glanced at Hungary sitting beside Austria and saw her grinning at him did he realise he had been staring at Brandenburg wide-eyed, and probably looked like an idiot. He quickly looked away again. Well, at least he wasn't the only one; he had seen plenty of his brothers and cousins, also pleasantly surprised at how good-looking their family member could be when she put her mind to it. Which she never did.  
When Brandenburg stood in front of him and the Priest started talking, preaching first before he would say a prayer together with everyone present, he just gave his cousin a look that would hopefully tell her how surprised he was at how she looked -and not in a bad way. She seemed to understand, flashed a brief smile, her blue eyes twinkling for just a heartbeat until she looked just as nervous and unhappy as Prussia felt.  
They both joined in the prayer out of habit, not so much because they had been prepared for it or willing to. And from there on, whatever the Priest said went mostly unnoticed by Prussia. His heart seemed to be pounding in his throat, and he only caught small parts of what the human said. "May this union between nations be blessed by the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit," and stuff like that.  
Then a silence fell, and it took the Prussian a moment to process the Priest's words, and to realise he had just been asked that godawful question whether he would take Brandenburg as his wife. His stomach twisted, and he felt sick for a moment. "Can I just say 'no' instead?" he wondered, only realising he'd wondered it out loud when there was an even more shocked silence than there had been when he'd not answered.  
The Priest didn't seem to know how to react. "A-as a matter of fact," he stammered, "it is not impossible for a man to refuse to marry like that. However, since this is not exactly marriage but a national union... no, you cannot."  
Prussia sighed, feeling embarassed by his own words, but also angry that he wasn't given the same freedom a human would have been. " _Fine then_ , yes."  
He looked Brandenburg in the eye as she was asked the same question, and she looked at him accusingly through narrowed eyes. " _Unfortunately_ , yes," was her answer, putting emphasis on the 'unfortunately' in such a way that told Prussia exactly what she had wanted to say: _I'm not done with you yet, asshole. You'll regret this._  
Then the Priest spoke some more, Prussia didn't listen, just like at first. He picked up some of the words that were spoken, and realised the Priest was now saying that whole 'man and wife' gimmick. And then words that he dreaded even more than those: "You may now kiss the bride."  
He just froze then. Had Holy Rome and Austria warned him about this? They hadn't, and if they had, he couldn't remember. He would have to kiss Brandenburg? No way! Not in a million, gazillion years! But then he reminded himself of one little word the human had spoken in that sentence, and he calmed himself with that, trying to relax again.  
The Priest wasn't so happy with that, however. Confused, he looked at Prussia. "Well?" he urged him on, not at all comprehending what was going on in the young country's mind for him to act like this.  
Prussia just met his confused stare. "You said 'may'," he reminded the man with hope in his voice. "No obligation."  
The Priest just blinked at him blankly. " _Must._ "  
"Oh, give me a break!"  
" _Prussia,"_ Brandenburg then sighed, and Prussia looked at her again. She was pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance and, perhaps, also because of a headache. Which wasn't caused by Prussia, oh no. He was to awesome for that, obviously. He healed headaches, instead of causing them. Yeah, it must be the Priest. Must be. The girl looked absolutely pissed as she returned Prussia's stare. "I'm not looking forward to this any more than you are," she told him in a hushed voice, though with the silence in the church at that moment, Prussia figured everyone must be able to hear her, anyway. "But let's just... get it over with. Alright?"  
Prussia stared at her for a heartbeat longer, then sighed. "Sure, why not." He leaned forward, closed his eyes and forced himself not to think about it, then gave her the quickest kiss he'd ever seen -but, he had to admit, on the lips, as he was apparently obligated to do.  
Brandenburg was just as quick to pull away as he was, and looked just as relieved that it was over. "Right, we're done here!" she said happily. "Can we go now?" she added to the Priest, looking hopeful.  
The human looked stunned at this, and still confused by everything that had happened earlier, he just stammered, "I-I suppose..."  
"Yes!" Brandenburg exclaimed, sounding even happier yet. Then she turned around and made her way out of the church quickly.  
The Prince-Elector looked angry at this, and he stood up, calling after her. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?!"  
"To take off this corset!" she called back, already outside. " _I want air!"_ Then she was gone, and everyone stared after her in silence, even Prussia.  
That silence was soon broken by Saxony, who burst out laughing once again. "That was the best wedding _ever!_ " Then, some others laughed along with him, and eventually, even Prussia couldn't suppress a chuckle. It _was_ pretty absurd.

* * *

Both countries had calmed down again by the time the actual wedding had ended like that and they were just left with a ball, some dances to go through together, and then the knowledge that they could finally het back to their normal lives again -just with a ring around their fingers. That would be the only thing different tomorrow from yesterday. Well, and maybe jokes from others, like Saxony. He'd complimented them again on how amazing their wedding had been to look at.  
Right now, waltzing with Brandenburg (he'd started feeling more comfortable with that the second dance they did, when they decided to just talk and joke as usual and not think about their awkward position -it also helped a lot that most others had joined in by now, country and human) Prussia was more glad than ever to hear Austria playing the piano. Not only did he still secretly admire his cousin for his skill and enjoy the wonderful music, it also meant he didn't have to look at Austria dancing with Hungary. The latter wasn't reluctant enough to his liking, though also not very willing. That at least was good.  
But Prussia decided not to think about that. Instead, he just smirked at Brandenburg, who looked a lot more comfortable without the corset, and also looked a lot better without it, Prussia had to admit. He had never really liked the look of women when they were being squeezed together like that -he could only imagine how uncomfortable it must be, and to him, just their constant discomfort was enough to ruin it all, even if they were the most beautiful women on earth with a dress befitting a divinity -if those had been female, of course. Why the rest of the men on this planet didn't think so, he had no idea.  
"That's why you wanted the whole ceremony to be over with quickly, then?" he asked Brandenburg, who chuckled and nodded.  
"Mostly because of the corset, yes," she admitted. "But also because you were only prolonging our suffering with your stupidity."  
He chuckled for a moment as well, and was about to say something else when a harsh coughing behind him distracted him, and alerted by the painful sound of it, both Prussia and Brandenburg turned around to look at it.  
The Holy Roman Empire had sat down quite some time ago already, not feeling well. Now he sat doubled over, hand clasped over his mouth, coughing continuously. Hungary, who had sat down beside him the moment Austria had gone to play music for all the guests, was holding him gently by the shoulders, softly talking to him. Holy Rome angrily shrugged her off when his coughing fit subsided a little, and Prussia felt a shiver of dread going down his spine when he saw a thin trail of blood trickling down from the Empire's lips. "I'm quite fine, thank you, Hungary," he then said, composing himself again. But when Hungary mentioned the blood he'd just coughed up, he stood up and left. " _I said I'm fine,_ " was all he said before he left.  
"My God," Brandenburg whispered in horror, subconsciously pressing closer to Prussia. "Do you think we might've influenced that?"  
Prussia, shocked as well, shook his head absent-mindedly. "It must be the war," he just told her. "Must be."  
But then again, he realised with a pang, he had just married into the Holy Roman Empire -another Protestant to divide the land furhter, an 'outsider' at that, property of Poland. Prussia had probably been right that it had only been because of the war that things were Holy Rome were so bad, but who could guarantee this marriage _hadn't_ condemned the Empire to furhter destruction?  
Prussia might be closer to Brandenburg these days than anyone else in the family, he still cared deeply for his older brother. Just when he thought this day wasn't quite as horrible as he had at first thought, here was the one thing needed to make it terrible.

 _Holy Rome... why did you even allow for this marriage to happen?_

* * *

 **Did I succeed in making it funny? I hope so!**

 **And the end is just a little thing to prepare for the shit that is soon to go down, of course~**

 **I hope you liked the chapter, and thank you all for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 already! If this will be anything like the previous Historical Hetalia stories I've written, we're halfway done here before I'll start Hope to Die.  
So yeah. Time flies.**

 **Abc and TheBlueAcid, thanks a bunch for the reviews! I'm glad you both liked the previous chapter so much~! (and uh... your wish is my command *bows awkwardly* Can't believe I forgot to mention that certain thing. Hope this chapter will make up for it!)  
And of course, also a thank you to Stealth Worshipper and AAA222 for all the follows and favourites, here and on the rest of Historical Hetalia in AAA222's case! Thanks a lot, both of you!**

 **Well, some history in here, some other things. And some more build-up for the real Thirty Years' War-centered chapters. Hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _7 August 1625_

 _Now that the Holy Roman Empire has been winning battles since 1621 already, the Lutheran Danish king has decided to step onto the battlefield as well. Denmark will be aided by his allies, Scotland and England, who have sent him troops recently, I heard. Something with bloodties between their royal families or something like that, but quite honestly, what royal family around here doesn't have bloodties to another?_  
 _Anyway, on to the important part in this for me and Brandenburg: they'll be too close to our borders for our comfort, and we're travelling their way now to tell them again that we do not need some battle-crazy Danes marching through our land. Or stuck-up Englishmen. Or drunk Scots._  
 _Just. No people. None._  
 _Because Brandenburg has been in enough trouble with the war lately despite our neutrality. I've hardly felt any of it, but I do feel what happens to her landmass and people nowadays, just mostly dulled. My own land has been mostly left alone, though with Poland supporting the Catholics, I don't know how long that will last. The Teutonic Order also still has claims in my land, and I don't know what they're going to do in this war. It's strange, having to be weary of an Order that was once mine... that was once_ _me_ _._

 _I'll keep Brandenburg safe. They've been hurting her too much lately -nobody's going to touch her anymore! Not while I'm around and breathing and awesome._

"Denmark!" Prussia called when he spotted his aquaintance further up a slope, on a clearing in a foresty area. The older country, who seemed to be discussing something with a couple of soldiers, looked over his shoulder in surprise at hearing his name being called.  
When he spotted Prussia approaching on horseback, his clear blue eyes widened a little. "Well, look at that!" he called when he recognised the younger country. "Prussia! I just received your letter that you would come here soon." He nodded to an eagle perched on a wooden table, a thin rope around its talon to tie it to said table. Prussia scowled at this, but said nothing. "Interesting choice of messenger," Denmark commented, inspecting the large, brown bird. "If anything, I was expecting a human to deliver me all necessary messages. Or, I don't know... pigeons? Whoever tamed this thing, it's an impressive feat."  
"Thanks," Prussia said with a cocky grin when he was beside the country and jumped off his horse, helping Brandenburg get off as well -it was more difficult for her now, as the Prince-Elector insisted on her wearing proper dresses for anything business related. When it was just the two countries out hunting together, or just riding for fun, she was sometimes allowed to wear pants. Only sometimes. Prussia then turned to the bird and whistled, at which it plucked at the small rope with its beak, broke free and flew over to the white-haired teen, who just raised his arm for the bird to sit on. He wore special leather bracers so the sharp claws of the animal wouldn't damage his arm. He grinned up at Denmark, who was staring at him in astonishment. "Tamed it myself," he said simply. Brandenburg chuckled, amused at the Dane's astonished expression, then got a dead mouse out of a satchel she wore around her hip, throwing it in the air, where the bird caught it effortlessly, then flew off to eat its reward in peace.  
"You need to feed him a mouse everytime he's done his job right," she explained to Denmark, who was now astonished at seeing a young girl like her so careless around such a vicious bird, let alone carrying a satchel with dead mice for said 'pet'.  
The Dane just shook his head then and laughed a little. "That's Brandenburg-Prussia for you, I suppose!" he said, only half to himself. Then he turned to Prussia again, gesturing to one of the men he'd been talking to. That man had already caught Prussia's eye before, as he must be as unique-looking as Prussia himself. At least, he'd never seen someone looking quite like that: he was tall, young -early twenties, Prussia estimated- and had dark red hair. Chestnut brown, almost, but with a much clearer red hue to it than Prussia had ever seen before. His eyes were a very pale blue, and had a thin layer of stubble on his chin and jawline. Most unique was his clothing, however, for part of it looked eerily similar to a skirt.  
Needless to say, Prussia wasn't all too surprised when Denmark introduced the man to him. "This is Scotland," he said, and the older country gave a short nod as he apparently heard what must've sounded like his name to him -he didn't seem to understand anything else of what Denmark was saying to Prussia and Brandenburg, and the Prussian figured he didn't speak their language. This was soon confirmed when Denmark added, "You do speak French, right? That's the language he and I use to communicate." Prussia just nodded, and as did Brandenburg a second later, though not as determinedly as her husband, and Denmark sighed in relief, turning to Scotland. " _Ils parlent francais,_ " he told the older country, who smiled at hearing that.  
Scotland then looked down at the two younger countries, chuckling a bit. "Oh, that's good. I was afraid Denmark would have to translate every word we said to each other! Well, anyway, I'm Scotland, nice t'meet you. And who might the two of you be?"  
"We're Brandenburg-Prussia," Brandenburg answered, raising her chin defiantly. Prussia had never seen her meet a country for the first time before except himself, and he guessed she didn't want to leave again without having left a good impression on this man. Meanwhile, Prussia was trying to figure out Scotland's age; he looked even older than Hesse, the oldest in the family. He must be well over a 1000 years old at the very least. In fact, Prussia wouldn't be surprised if he'd been around to witness the fall of the Roman Empire in the 5th century, which would place him at little less than 1200 years.  
"Ah, yes, I've heard about you," Scotland then mused, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to recall some things he'd heard about the two countries. "Got married recently, didn't you? Well, 2 years ago is recently for us, anyway. Well, I hope you're a better match then France and I were."  
"Or Spain and Austria," Denmark added with a smirk.  
"Spain and Austria?" Prussia echoed. Those two were engaged or something? He'd never heard anything about that.  
Denmark blinked at him in surprise, especially when Brandenburg reacted just as surprised. But then he just shrugged and started explaining. "You know that they're both ruled by Habsburgs, right? Well, that's nothing new, but I heard that, some years ago -a decade I think- there was some sort of secret treaty within that family... I don't know what it is called or what it's about, as it was all kind of hush-hush, but you know, with the right connections and an inquisitive mind, there's nothing one cannot discover! Anyway, I heard they've been married since then, though they're really only rumours."  
Brandenburg and Prussia exchanged a glance at this. It would explain why Spain had been there for their wedding, actually -'associated with the Holy Roman Empire' couldn't have anything to do with it. Nearly all of Europe was associated with the Empire, and only the German family and Poland had been there, plus Hungary because she had a tendency to try and escape from Austria's court every so often, and Spain... because he'd apparently married into the family some time ago already.  
"Also explains why the stupid aristocrat could tell me all about how a wedding ceremony goes," Prussia mumbled to himself absent-mindedly.  
"Well," Denmark broked into his thoughts, and Prussia looked up at him again. "I'm sure the two of you have come here for business, but it's late, and I still need to discuss tactics with Scotland and England over there-" He briefly nodded to a young, blond male standing next to a tent father off, talking to humans. He'd grown up a lot since the last time Prussia had seen him, but he could clearly recognise him as the cranky bastard he'd met in London so long ago. "-so you're free to stay for now. We'll let the serious business wait until tomorrow, all right? My men will get a tent ready for you." He glanced briefly at Brandenburg. "Don't want you sleeping among soldiers, obviously."  
Brandenburg only blinked at him, somewhere between grateful and offended, and to not let those conflicting emotions be any clearer, she remained silent. Instead, Prussia mumbled a soft thanks to the Dane, and watched as he and Scotland walked off to a tent, calling England to join them. The older teenager looked up from his conversation, said a quick goodbye to the humans and followed them. He glanced at Brandenburg-Prussia as he passed the two countries, and recognition flared in his emerald eyes for a moment, though he only acknowledged them with a brief, polite nod before following Denmark and Scotland -whom Prussia just remembered was England's older brother.

After a little while of silence, Prussia saw two soldiers emerge fromt the tent the three countries had gone into, who called a few others to help them set up a tent. Prussia watched for a moment, his feet itching to move again and do something, so he turned to Brandenburg. "I'll help them out for a bit," he told her, then added, "You'll be okay on your own, right?"  
She just narrowed her blue eyes indignantly. "Of course I will," she retorted with the same fire as Prussia was now used to hearing from her. "I'm not a kid."  
"All right, then," Prussia mumbled, already turning around and walking over to the men, telling them quickly that he would help out. But even as he was working, he couldn't help glancing over his shoulder at Brandenburg one or two times. His wife looked quite lost on her own like that. _You're not a kid,_ he told her in silence, _but you're a girl, and I don't recall you ever having been to a battlefield before. Being among so many soldiers -foreign soldiers at that- must be a whole new experience for you._ Prussia only felt right at home here, even if he couldn't communicate with the majority of these people. It was a scene he'd been used to for year upon year, after all.  
Eventually she looked a little more comfortable, and Prussia felt more comfortable focusing on his task because of that. But he regretted taking his eyes off her soon enough, because barely any time had passed before he heard her shriek angrily and indignantly, "Oh, let me go, you filthy brute!"  
Immediately, Prussia whipped around, looking for her, but dusk had already set in and it was too dark to see her right away. But when he did, rage made his blood boil. A human soldier was gripping her arm as she was hitting at him and kicking him against the shin. But she was still not at all strong, and the human only laughed at her pitiful attempts to free herself. Another two were just watching, amused by it all. Prussia could tell they were only playing with her now -but who could guarantee it would stay like that?  
" _Hey!"_ he roared, storming in their direction. "She said to let her go!" The men only looked at him in confusion, and seeing their empty gazes, Prussia figured they were English -not Scottish, as they weren't wearing skirts like Scotland was- and didn't speak German or Danish, which was similar enough to German to understand at least a bit of what he said. He repeated it in French just before he reached them, but still they didn't react. Either they spoke no Germand _and_ no French, which was a good possibility, or they didn't care. Whichever case it was, Prussia hesitated not a moment to jump right onto the man that was still holding Brandenburg by the wrist, pummeling him with his fists, much like she had done, but with more force. Much more. Almost immediately, the human gasped for breath, let Brandenburg go and stumbled backwards. But Prussia was too angry to keep it at that -he deserved some more punishment before Prussia would be satisfied with it. Swiftly, he got behind the man and kicked him in such a way that he fell instantly, then stomped onto his shoulder, feeling bones crack under his boots and hearing the man yowl in pain at the shattering of his shoulder.  
Then, from the corner of his eyes, Prussia saw the older three countries approach them quickly, England quickest of all. He made a dash for the Prussian and lifted him up, pulling him away from the human, who scrambled back to his feet, glaring murderously at Prussia. Prussia just struggled and kicked to free himself, and eventually England had no choice but to let go again. By then, however, Scotland had reached them as well and effortlessly took over for his little brother. Feeling the strength in this country's arms, Prussia soon gave up. There was no way he was going to break free from the Scot's grasp like he did England's.  
Said country was glaring at Prussia, gritting his teeth. "Why'd you attack my people like that?" he demanded, enraged. Prussia didn't answer, only stared back with the same amount of anger, still lifted into the air by Scotland. England didn't accept his silence. " _Well?!_ "  
"To help me," Brandenburg then said, gently rubbing her wrist, which was clearly sore after the human's strong grip. She glared at both England and Prussia, however. "Your soldier, England, assaulted me. Prussia was merely trying to protect me."  
England blinked at her, then turned to his soldier. In English, he asked something, to which the human nodded solemnly, looking quite ashamed all of a sudden. England just sighed and turned back to Brandenburg and Prussia. "All right, then. My apologies for his behaviour, miss, these men just... Well, you're the only woman around here. Things happen when you're stuck between men week after week -you were probably just a nice change of pace to them. Not that this gives these men any right to act like they did, and for that, you have my sincerest apologies." Prussia just huffed, not believing a word of it. If England wanted to sound believable, he'd better start talking like a normal person, not some sort of overly polite, stuck-up prick. Hell, he sounded a bit like Austria would, and that alone was enough to piss him off. He looked sincere enough, though, and that was even more infuriating. "Allistair, you can let him go now."  
Prussia blinked in surprise at this, even more surprised when Scotland nodded and put him down carefully. Once with his feet back on the ground, he looked up at the tall country. "Allistair?" he echoed, confused. "But you're Scotland...?"  
"Aye, well," Scotland laughed for a brief moment. "Quite recently, we've started using human names in the family to adress each other by. Also very useful when you're among humans and don't need them to know who you are. Artie here started the trend," he added, gesturing to England, who sighed in annoyance. "Went off pirating for some years, the lad did. Decided it was better if no one knew it was England plundering ships and committing God knows how many crimes, so he started calling himself Arthur."  
"Exactly," England muttered, narrowing his eyes at his older brother. " _Arthur,_ not _Artie._ And by God, Allistair, we would never speak of the piracy thing again!"  
Prussia just chuckled at the older country's anger, then shrugged. "If you want to know who really started the trend," he then said, "you need to look no further, I think. I've been using a human name since all the way back in the 1190's. Normally I go by Prussia now, but I sometimes still introduce myself as Gilbert to some humans." With a grin, he turned to England. "Sorry, _Artie,_ but you were a little late to the idea."  
"Like that even matters," England huffed.  
Meanwhile, Denmark asked Brandenburg if she was all right, and the three other countries turned to them as well. The girl just huffed and raised her chin, though to Prussia she still looked a little shaken, and his heart raced in anger toward the humans for this fact. "I'm quite fine, thank you," she said, as calm as ever, with an edge to her voice that clearly told the men around her to back off and leave her be.  
But they didn't. "See, Brandenburg?" Denmark just said calmly, apologetically almost. "This is why I decided to give you your own tent for as long as you're here."  
She blinked at him when this information sank in, then just said softly, "Well... appreciated."  
Prussia, still angry, took a step closer to her and grabbed her hand. "Which _I'll_ be sharing with you."  
Immediately, Brandenburg pulled her hand free and stared at her husband indignantly. " _Not_ appreciated," she said sharply. "You're not going to sleep in the same space I am!"  
"Fine, then I won't sleep!" Prussia said, raising his voice with the anger he still felt. "But I'm not going to leave you alone anymore after this, not here."  
She stared him straight in his red eyes for a moment, then sighed and nodded, agreeing, though she didn't look too happy about it.  
"Well then, since you've got that settled," Denmark then said good-humouredly. "We'll just be finishing our business. With all these interruptions, we'll never get it done." He then left, and Scotland and England followed, Scotland taking a moment to ruffle Prussia's white hair as he walked past. Angry, Prussia was about to go after him and give him a good kick, but Brandenburg stopped him. The Scot just looked over his shoulder and grinned at him, enjoying how easy it was to piss the Prussian off right now.

* * *

That night though, once they were settled into their tent together, Prussia started writing again.  
 _9 August 1625_

 _Well, I must say, it is rather awkward to be here with Brandenburg now. There's only one bed, and that one's for her. I'll be sleeping on the ground, if I'll be sleeping at all. I'll be guarding her tonight, after the events of today. She might think it's unnecessary, but I know better. I've been a soldier all my life, I know how these things go. For many of these men, unfortunately, Brandenburg might well be the last woman they'll ever see in this life. They'll be taking advantage of that if they get the chance._  
"Prussia," Brandenburg then said, interrupting him. He looked up for a moment, but when he saw her glare, he looked back down at his journal almost immediately. "I'll be getting out of this dress now, and I expect you won't be looking up from that paper until I tell you it's okay for you to. Understood?"  
"Yes, ma'am," Prussia just snickered. Like he hadn't seen her in her underdress before -hell, he'd seen her like that even before they'd gotten married. He just shook his head, amused, and continued writing.  
 _Thankfully we won't be staying long. I expect we'll get a chance to talk to Denmark tomorrow, and then we can be on our way back, or the day after tomorrow. I'll be glad to have her back home, though if it were only myself, I'd rather stay here for a while yet. I've missed the smell of metal and fire, the presence of soldiers. Brandenburg-Prussia doesn't have an army, being neutral in this war._  
"Right, I'm done here."  
"Heard you."  
 _For now, I think I'll just be taking my position as Brand's guard, then. I've got a long night ahead of me._

Prussia just took his position near the entrance to the tent and stood there, unmoving. Soon enough, however, he stood swaying. An hour must've passed, and he took a quick glance outside at the sky. Judging by the position of the moon, it was nearly midnight. He and Brandenburg had gotten on their way rather early that day, and he was exhausted. Once he knew for sure Brandenburg would be all right here, he'd lie down on the floor and drift off in a heartbeat, no doubt.  
"Just come here, you silly," suddenly came Brandenburg's half awake voice, and he jumped in shock. He'd seriously though she were asleep. "You can just sleep next to me, I'm fine with that. I know you won't try anything weird."  
"I won't," Prussia just protested. "That would be way too weird."  
"I know you, Prussia," she just mumbled, sounding seriously half asleep. "You're cranky when you're tired. I want you to have a proper night's sleep, for everyone's sake, and you won't get that on the ground. Just come here."  
He looked over his shoulder, seeing her already scooting over and making space for him. A proper bed did look tempting, and he eventually just gave in. This would still be guarding her, he told himself. No one would dare to get near her if it meant waking Prussia in the process, he'd made sure of that when he broke a man's shoulder for even touching her. Setting aside his awkwardness, he lay down beside her, telling himself over and over that is was okay according to any rulebook. They were married, had been married for two years, and they'd never even slept in the same room yet, let alone the same bed. He wouldn't break any rules just trying to sleep properly for once. Yeah. Totally fine.  
Much to his surprise, it didn't feel quite as awkward as it had sleeping next to Hungary when he'd first discovered she was a girl. It felt nice and warm to be in a bed now, after the chilliness of the night. He drifted off as quickly as he'd anticipated he would on the ground. Faster even.

* * *

There were noises outside, which gradually began to wake Prussia. He shifted in his sleep, trying to turn around and sleep some more. He felt like he'd lain down only minutes ago, and he really, really wanted to drift off for just another hour or so. But when he tried to turn around, he felt some pressure against his chest that tugged at him as he moved, so he flopped back down into his earlier position. Whatever lay against his chest shifted now too, and let out a soft, sleepy hum, which alarmed Prussia.  
It hummed? That meant it was a person. He opened his eyes, only to see a messy mop of brown hair that could only belong to Brandenburg gently pressed against him. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled up closer to him, and he could only tell himself that she wasn't aware of what she did. She wasn't. She was asleep. Brandenburg would kill him for it if he'd ever be like this to her, she would never do so with him when she was awake. And, just for his own sake, it was probably best if he moved away now, too. She might think _he'd_ been the first to get closer to her, not the other way around. _And he wasn't, right?_  
So he shoved away from her, but woke her gently before getting out of bed completely. Thankfully, she was too dazed in her first seconds of being awake to realise what was happening exactly. She just yawned and sat up. "Goodmorning, Prussia," she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of one hand. Then she swung her legs from the bed and got up, stretching a bit. Prussia just looked away and glanced out the tent for a moment. England was just taking a patrol out, probably to check for enemy troops nearby and scouting the area. Scotland was talking to some people, one of them a priest. Denmark was nowhere to be seen from here, but he must still be there, and probably already awake. It was also just dawn, the Prussian noticed, and he sighed. He hadn't been too far off, it seemed, when he guessed that he hadn't slept so long.  
"Prussia?" came Brandenburg's voice behind him, soft and rather hesitant, like she didn't want to ask this. The white-haired duchy turned around and looked at her again, only to see her standing there, half back into her dress, with her hands clumsily on her back with the strings that closed her clothing at the back clenched between her fingers. Prussia just smirked, amused and already knowing what her question would be, and walked her way. "Sorry to ask, but I can't really -hey!" She nearly jumped when he started tying her dress closed before she could even finish her question, and didn't sound too pleased. "And what if it turned out I was about to ask you something else entirely?" she demanded angrily as he was finishing up, and he just chuckled, saying that she wouldn't and, if she would, he was pretty sure he could take her anger -he'd had to live with that for two years now. She just huffed and turned around to face him when he was done. "Well," she said, defiant once again. "I must say, it's much easier to take these horrid things off than it is to put them on. This is why I hate having to dress 'properly'." Then she looked at the entrance to their tent as well and sighed softly. "Let's just get this over with so we can leave again today. I hate it here." Then she walked out.  
Prussia watched her go for a moment, silent. She didn't say so, but he knew why she hated this place so much. She couldn't be nearly as independent here as she wanted to be, and instead had to rely on Prussia nearly every second they were here. She had never liked having to rely on others. With a sigh, he shook his head and followed her. She'd just have to put up with it from now on, not just here, but anywhere they went. He still wasn't too pleased with the thought, but she was his wife now. And though he wanted nothing more than to get a divorce, for now, he would protect her like he was supposed to. He would be as awesome a husband as he was anything else, and she would just have to put up with that. He wasn't going to change his awesome ways.

* * *

"All right, all right," Denmark said eventually, trying to grin, but his face was twisted more into a grimace than anything else. "No hurting your people, you're neutral. I got it the first time, you know. The second, third and fourth times were quite unnecessary." Prussia and Brandenburg just shrugged and stated that they would rather be clear about things than risk anything, but it seemed like Denmark wasn't listening anymore. He was staring at the clearing outside with worry in his eyes instead, and muttered something under his breath in Danish. Prussia and Brandenburg followed his gaze, and saw him staring at Scotland, who was still talking to that priest even after the other humans had left. Much to Prussia's surprise, he now noticed the man was Catholic.  
"Why would a Catholic priest here be a problem," he asked however, "when they've been talking normally all morning already?"  
But Denmak shook his head. "Not just a Catholic or a priest," he said. "That's Ireland; he arrived here before dawn this morning, to check up on his brothers, he said. Also to preach to us about not hurting the Catholics, I'd wager. No, the problem is... that." He then pointed at England, who was just returning, and went straight to Scotland and Ireland when he saw his older brothers. He roared something at them, in English however, so neither of the three conutries understood what was being said. Though they all understood the meaning of it: he was seriously pissed, and clearly wanted Ireland to leave. The Irishman rounded up on him now, too, retorting something just as angrily, and Scotland was just trying to soothe his two brothers. But England only said something else to Ireland, who, much to Prussia's surprise, seeing as he was a priest, punched his little brother in the gut for this. Heartbeats later, they were rolling over the clearing in a whirlwind of fists and curses. Denmark sighed. "I suppose I'd better help Scotland untangle them again. Willing to help, Prussia?"  
The Prussian just nodded and ran after him. He and Denmark went for Ireland while Scotland lunged for England, picking up his little brother and holding the squirming country in his arms until he settled down again. Seeing as Ireland was taller than both of them, Denmark and Prussia couldn't use the same method with him, but they subdued him soon enough as well. Both Denmark and Scotland were trying to calm the two raging, bloodied countries, but though they didn't try to fight each other physically anymore, they were still yelling at each other in English, and Prussia could only begin to imagine the curses that were wished upon one another by them.

Once the countries from the British Isles were settled down again, Ireland and England receiving a thorough scolding from Scotland, the younger three countries were just staring in their direction. "That's how Catholics and Protestants are nowadays," Denmark sighed, his perpetual good mood actually gone now. "I don't blame the two of you for wanting to stay out of this war; it's going to be nastier than this fight was just now."  
But Prussia was shocked at it for a whole other reason, and as was Brandenburg. They both thought their relationship with Holy Rome had been bad for a while, and with some other family members as well. But at least they had never gotten to the point that they tried to kill each other on sight like this. And Prussia prayed to God they never would.

 _10 August 1625_

 _Holy Rome, I love you so so much. Let's never fight like England and Ireland do, all right? Sure, brothers can't always get along, but you'll be my brother forever and ever, you do realise that, right? I don't... I don't want to have to fight my siblings like that._  
 _That's the reason I'm neutral in this war. And though I must admit Brandenburg's safety and wellbeing is a close second, that is the_ _only reason I'm neutral._ _Because I want to fight, I really do. Just not against my family._  
 _Not ever._

* * *

 **Haaaa... blast from the past, writing Ireland and England like that, Scotland as well. Really needed that for a moment, and thankfully it's historically correct to include them here.**

 **Personally I would hate to be in Brandenburg's position there. I'd wager not all soldiers would be respectful towards women in this situation, then or now. Not if she was the only one around for miles and miles. Ah well...**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter!**


	21. Chapter 21

**TheBlueAcid, thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked the previous chapter. And what you said is quite true ;) Though really, someone's already ahead of him...**

 **Another introduction in this one, and perhaps not quite like you'd expect. But hey, going by Hetalia Canon, I think I was accurate enough...? Not sure. I hope so.**

* * *

 _17 December 1640_

 _Brandenburg is doing worse again... I'm worried about her. She's lost too many people due to the war, even though we've still not fought. I.. I can't count the souls lost in this awful war, which has lasted over 20 years now._  
 _We've not only been invaded by both sides in this gruesome, everlasting battle, we're also affected by the common -and terrible- consequences of war: famine, plague, you name it. I haven't lost too many people myself, but even I feel faint sometimes. I still wish I could fight, for that's what I was born to do, but I also want all this to be over. It would be awesome to fight, but to wish this war would last would be the most unawesome thing ever. It has caused too much suffering to everyone for that._  
 _I wonder how Holy Rome is doing. I haven't seen him in ages, and I don't think he's doing well. His side won many battles at first, but now it's the Protestant side that dominating the battlefield. Poor Holy Rome... but what else can we do but fight? Should we just stop defending our beliefs, our rights as people, just because they wish us to?_  
 _Sorry, but I'm too awesome to not know my own worth._

Prussia just put down his journal again, sighing in defeat, when he heard a knock on his door, followed by the nervous voice of one of the servants in this palace; he recognised her voice as being one of the people who were always still nervous around him, fairly new in the Prince-Elector-Duke's service. He never bothered to tell them that he was perfectly all right to be around anymore, as they all found out after several months of service, anyway.  
"M-Master Prussia?" she asked, her voice quivering in a way that told Prussia it wasn't just because of having to talk to someone she was afraid of.  
Curious and worried at the same time, he told her to come in.  
The young woman bowed to him politely, and he just waited to hear what she had to say. The human looked reluctant and shifted on her feet a bit, not knowing what to say for a moment. "Young Lady Brandenburg is..." she blurted out, trailing off then before rephrasing her words, apparently. Just her first four words had already made Prussia's heart skip a beat. Brandenburg... what? "S-she isn't doing very well, sir," the young servant then continued, her eyes sparking with worry for the young country, with whom she got along quite well actually. Both countries had decided it was useless to still attempt to get their leader's servants to stop adressing them like their masters (and quite honestly, Prussia didn't mind the respect and sometimes even awe so much) but they also never hesitated to make small talk with them like they did any human. Now, he listened intently to this young human, still just a girl, really, without breathing. "She got a letter containing some bad news, it seems, and she won't calm down now. Please, maybe you can help her."  
She didn't need to say any more: Prussia was already on his way.

When he got to her room, he found Brandenburg sitting on her bed, crying, muttering something to another servant who was trying to talk to her. She didn't seem to notice Prussia yet, as she sat with her back to him, and with a sigh, he got onto the bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened in surprise for just a moment, then turned around and hugged him back. He sat in silence with her for a moment, allowing her to cry against his shoulder as he gently stroked her through her hair for a bit. When she quieted down, he just softly asked what was going on.  
She looked at a crumpled letter beside her for a heartbeat, which Prussia had noticed a minute or so before, but hadn't bothered to look at it until she was ready to tell him about it. Then the young country took in a shaky breath and leaned in closer to Prussia, whispering sadly, "Wurtemberg has died..."  
Wurtemberg was one of their many family members, about a century older than both of them. Neither of them had ever had much contact with him, but he was family nonetheless. Prussia sighed in defeat, feeling a twinge of grief at this news as well, though right now he was focused on Brandenburg more than the news of his cousin's death. "What happened?" he couldn't help asking, however, hoping she could tell him who had killed Wurtemberg -because someone had. That was the only way he could've died.  
But it wasn't. Brandenburg shuddered in his arms, trembling as though the were crouched in the snow that lay outside. "He lost too many people according to the letter," she told him softly, sounding horrified and scared. "Which is true -I heard rumours of how bad his situation was a while ago. Remember?"  
Prussia nodded silently. They'd had a conversation on that a year or so ago. But back then neither of them thought it was this bad.  
"He got cut by something," Brandenburg went on, reciting the contents of the letter in her own words. "In the arm, it said. And it wouldn't stop bleeding..." She shuddered again, and finished sadly, "That's because he'd lost so many people, I guess. First chance his body got to lose blood, he bled out..."  
Prussia suppressed a shiver at the idea. He knew that, even for a country, being cut in an artery was a pretty bad thing. But where a human could easily bleed out in such a situation, a country would survive. Their bodies had some sort of survival mechanism that prevented them from bleeding to death if it was not war-related, a demographical cause or a wound directly inflicted by another so-called immortal. There was no other explanation in this case than loss of people being the primary cause of death.  
"Wurtemberg will be missed," he sighed, still holding Brandenburg. "We won't be there for his funeral, not in time, I'm sure. But I promise you, Brand, I'll take you to his grave first chance I get. Clearly you need a chance to say good-bye."  
To his surprise, the girl shook her head. "That's not so much the problem, though I do appreciate it," she said, her voice a bit steadier again as she moved away from Prussia and stared up at him with round, fearful blue eyes. "If _he_ died from loss of people," she whispered, sounding terrified for a heartbeat, "who can guarantee _I_ won't? Oh, Prussia, I don't want to die... not like that... not at all."  
"You won't," Prussia promised her with a forced but honest smile. "Not while you have the Awesome Me to defend you!"  
"Prussia, even you can't possibly prevent a massacre of my people like that, or hunger and disease ripping them from this world."  
He just grinned now. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do," he told her confidently. "I know my own limits better than anyone, just know that. And my awesomeness is enough to keep both of us alive, no matter what happens. All right?"  
But Brandenburg still looked scared, and she shook her head, not believing him. Teary-eyed again, she sighed. "I'm going to miss Wurtemberg," she mumbled, blinking a few tears away. "Prussia, if you know your own limits, then please make sure you won't be pushing them. I don't want to risk losing you, too."  
Right, then. If he wanted to calm her down completely, he had to shut her up, because he could tell that she was only scaring herself further by voicing her fears. But words wouldn't shut her up -he'd tried that already, after all. He nibbled on the inside of his lip for a moment, considering his next options. It might not be the most pleasant thing to do, but it would shut her up. And besides, in the 2 decades they'd been married and living together, he'd noticed Brandenburg was a bit more fond of him than he was of her -he might've been oblivious of his own feelings towards Hungary for a while, but he wasn't an idiot. Quite the contrary. And right now he was pretty sure this method would work, and Brandenburg wouldn't nearly mind it as much as he did.  
So he just leaned forward a bit and kissed her.  
It was quite simple reasoning behind it, really. She couldn't talk if her mouth was otherwise occupied, she probably wouldn't think for a few seconds straight until her mind could process what was going on exactly, and when she was able to think again, Wurtemberg's death or the off chance that this war would kill her definitely wouldn't be on top of the list right now.  
 _I'm such a genius, I'm awesome!_ he told himself when he felt her relax after a heartbeat or two. But then, much to his astonishment, he felt himself relaxing as well, and another 'awesome-thought' popped up in his head, as he called them now, one he'd never thought was even possible to exist. _Wow... talking about awesome..._  
Confused and embarassed, he pulled away rather abruptly, and he hoped Brandenburg didn't notice his sudden awkwardness. Way to ruin his moment of awesomeness.  
But she seemed to confused herself to notice, much to his relief. Through narrowed -but not discontented- eyes, she looked up at him. "What was that all about?" she asked softly.  
Deciding to take advantage of this chance to get her mind off all the bad news completely, he just smiled gently and suggested they should go out for a walk or riding into the nearby forest on horseback, just to get some fresh air; she hadn't been feeling well enough to get out much lately. The recent journey to Konigsberg had taken its toll on her current frail state of health for a week already. But he could tell she was in need of fresh air now. She nodded, saying she'd like to do the latter -going into the forest.

Once there, as his eyes fell on a now familiar slope, he realised there was another thing he could do to help his wife now, for she was getting down again. This would be a gamble -it might work to cheer her up, and it might have a similar effect it had on him so many years ago. Deciding to go through with it before he could change his mind, he turned to her.  
"Let's leave the horses here for a moment," he told her. "There's something up there that I need to show you."  
Curious, she just got off her horse and went after Prussia, up the slope, to the large tree and flat stone that lay on top of it. He watched her in silence for a moment, saw her not comprehending what he wanted to do, and he walked over to the rock and brushed snow and moss from it much like Poland had done so long ago. He watched her eyes widen when she realised where they were standing, and with a wry smile he went to stand beside her again. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand. "See that?" he said softly. "That's my grave, Brand. I died once. You know I did. But I came back." He felt her fingers tighten around his, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I came back, was given another life, and so will Wurtemberg. Just as any country who will ever die. We'll never truly be gone, you know. We'll always come back."  
Brandenburg didn't respond. Instead, she stared for a little while in silence, then noticed something under the oak, and walked over to it, letting go of Prussia's hand. He watched her crouch down in the snow, fumble in it for a moment, then pull something out. His heart skipped a beat as he saw two small snowdrop flowers in her hand. With those, she silently stood beside the grave of his former incarnation, then gently laid the flowers on top of the stone before joining her husband again.  
He shook his head for a moment, not understanding. "What was that for?" he just choked out, staring at the little flowers. "What's that necessary for?"  
The girl stared up at him, blinking. "Don't you think you deserve flowers on your grave?" she just asked softly, grabbing his hand again, and this time, he was the one getting choked up. Though he wouldn't show it. He would never show it. "If you were to die now, Prussia," she continued, "I would bring flowers to your grave every day. I would make sure your sword was buried with you, and your quill. I would make sure you always had paper and ink to continue writing your journal with. I would never let your grave be left untended and abandoned in the woods like this, and I know you would do the same for me. So why should _her_ grave be in this sorry state? _Yours_?"  
Prussia was silent for a moment longer, still staring, baffled by the gesture. He'd never thought about it before, really. But now that he saw the flowers, he had to admit, he did like it. So he just turned to Brandenburg and smiled warmly at her, thanking her softly. Before they headed down the slope to their horses again, he glanced back at the grave one more time. His words seemed to have helped Brandenburg for real: Wurtemberg would be back, and so would anyone who would perish in this war. He was sure of it.

* * *

"Where have the two of you been?!" Brandenburg-Prussia's leader bellowed when the two came back later that afternoon. Both countries were shocked at his anger, not understanding where that came from. He looked completely stressed out, not knowing whether to let the two teenagers be or to give them the punishment of their lives. "I've told you both many times, today the Tsardom of Russia and his Tsar would arrive here!"  
Brandenburg and Prussia looked at each other for a moment, startled. With the events of that morning, they had both completely forgotten about it. Well, and Prussia would rather forget about Russia's existence altogether. He was a little good for nothing nitwit, in Prussia's eyes, and the world would be much better of without such a failure walking around on it. He just huffed, earning a correctional stare from his Duke, but he didn't really care. He just really didn't want to have to entertain the most useless person in Europe. 'Sending support for the Protestants', like he even could! The little bastard couldn't even beat Prussia in a proper round of arm wrestling, how in the world was he supposed to be support for the Protestant troops in this godawful war?  
But when he muttered something about it when he and Brandenburg were sent off to Brandenburg's room first -their leader wanted her to change back into a dress first, as per usual- she just gave him a soft slap on the arm. "Be nice to him," she told Prussia, narrowing her eyes at her husband. "He's just here to pass through to western Europe, you know that. Tomorrow he'll be on his way again, and I don't need you to ruin that boy's time here completely." She was silent for a moment, looking at one of the paintings on the wall, a portret of John Sigismund, before turning back to look at Prussia. "You don't have to make enemies everywhere you go."  
"I'm not making enemies everywhere," Prussia just protested, stung.  
Brandenburg laughed. "Of course you're not! Prussia, just think, will you? You insulted Austria the moment you met him, did the same with Bavaria, Hessen, France and Spain. I remember your story of meeting Wales -what did you call him, again? 'A walking pile of dirt and straw', something like that? I know you've been bullying Russia whenever you got the chance -that's not how you work on your international relations."  
Prussia just huffed, and leaned against the wall outside her room as she went in to change. "Whatever," he muttered, insulted by the truth behind her words. "Just cal when you need me to tie those stupid string-y things again."

But as he waited for her to get ready, much to his dismay, he saw a familiar, platinum-blond boy appearing around the corner of this corridor. Russia recognised him the same moment he recognised Russia, and walked over to him happily. "Hello there, Prussia!" he greeted the white-haired teenager with a bright smile. Prussia shuddered: there was always a hint of malice behind that eerie smile of his, and he had no idea what brought it about. He just didn't feel comfortable near Russia, which was one of the reasons he had taken to bullying the other country -so that he would just stay out of his way.  
Russia just never seemed to understand, though. "I hope you're doing well despite the war, hm?" the boy asked him with a blood-chilling chuckle. He was probably trying to be nice, Prussia thought, but the Prussian's deep dislike for him didn't allow the teenager to feel any sympathy for this country.  
"Yeah," he just muttered, looking away. "'M doing just great, thanks."  
"And Brandenburg? I heard she's lost nearly half her people due to the war."  
 _How can you still smile while saying that, bastard?_ Prussia just thought as he glanced at Russia from the corner of his eye, and his stomach twisted in disgust. He really, _really_ hated Russia. "She's doing okay," he just answered. "What'd you expect? She's my wife, she's as awesome as I am. You'll have to slay the last person within her lands for her to _not_ be doing well."  
Russia chuckled again. "Noted!"  
Prussia just glared at him for a heartbeat, which Russia thankfully didn't see; he had his eyes closed for just a moment, smiling contently.  
Then, almost to deliberately let Russia know that Prussia had lied about Brandenburg's condition, her voice came from inside her room, sounding a little dazed. "Prussia? I could use your help by now."  
He sighed, telling Russia to wait outside for him, and went inside. Brandenburg was leaning on her desk with both hands, breathing slowly and deeply. "I'm feeling a bit dizzy..." she just informed Prussia, who walked up behind her and started tying her dress closed as he had promised he would. "Was that Russia you were talking to?" she asked then, wincing for just a moment as Prussia pulled her dress a little too tight at the mention of the country's name. He softly apologised, then continued working more gently again. Brandenburg just huffed. "I'm not very fond of him, either, but you have no reason to treat him like garbage like that. You'll get in trouble for it one day."  
"Like he can pose a threat to me," Prussia just said, barking out a short laugh at the ridiculous idea. "He's a little stupid weakling, and I'm the most awesomely strong soldier this planet has ever known."  
"You do realise he's gained a lot of land and power since you first declared him weak and useless?" was Brandenburg's flat answer. She straightened herself when Prussia was done, stretching her back a bit. But she stumbled as she did, and Prussia was just able to catch her.  
"Are you really sure you're not going to rest a bit again?" he just asked, getting worried once again. "You know I'm awesome enough to represent us both."  
"If you do that," Brandenburg just huffed, steadying herself, "you'll make Russia hate me, too. No thanks, I'm well enough."  
Prussia inspected her as she walked towards her bedroom door, stumbling again once before she reached it. "Suit yourself," he just snorted, to soft for her to hear. But then he shook his head and ran up to her, holding her by the arm to help keep her on her feet as they walked out.

Russia smiled again when he saw Brandenburg emerge from her room, and the girl made a small, polite bow to him. "Welcome to Konigsberg, Russia," she greeted him with a smile.  
He greeted her in return, then looked at the way she and Prussia stood there together, smiling genuinely warm for a moment, one smile that didn't send shivers down Prussia's spine. "It must be nice to have friends like that," he commented. "I'm glad the two of you get along so well; I'm sure you make for a strong union."  
"We do," Brandenburg answered with another polite dip of her head. "Thank you, Russia."  
The Russian just sighed softly, hardly audible. "I wish I had friends like that," he mumbled to himself under his breath, almost too soft to hear.  
Prussia scowled at this. _Don't try to make me feel bad for you,_ he wanted to tell the other country, _because it's not going to work, little shit._ He could sense Brandenburg's discomfort as though it were his own, though he couldn't tell whether it was all because of Russia being there with them, or if it was that she honestly didn't feel well. Well, he knew she wasn't feeling well, but he didn't know if that was the cause of her discomfort, more like it.  
His own was definitely caused by Russia, though, no doubt about that.

* * *

When the trio of countries reached the main hall where the their leaders were, the Prince-Elector turned to Brandenburg, worry flashing in his eyes rather than anger now. "Brandenburg, I just heard about what happened this morning. Are you feeling well again?"  
Brandenburg seemed as determined to lie about it as Prussia was, for she nodded. "I was merely grieving for my cousin, sir," she answered softly, sadness edging her voice again. "I have overcome the worst of my shock about his passing now."  
"A cousin died?" Russia inquired, sounding genuinely shocked now, staring wide-eyed at Brandenburg-Prussia with his purple-ish blue eyes. "Who?"  
"Wurtemberg," Prussia just answered flatly, not looking at Russia. "The loss of people became too much for him."  
Russia made a soft, pitying sound, then mumbled solemnly, "My condolences. Having loved ones must be a blessing, but to have them ripped away must be the worst curse imaginable."  
"It is," Brandenburg sighed, also not looking at the Russian as she spoke. "But we won't have to grieve long." She glanced at Prussia then, blue eyes shimmering with warmth and gratitude. "He'll be back soon."  
"I suppose so!" Russia answered, a smile back on his face. "That's the good thing about being countries, isn't it? We always know our loved ones will be back -unless they were deliberately killed to be conquered, of course. Or if they had lost enough status in the world not to need a seperate personification -that's a killer if I ever saw one. But I take it Wurtemberg's case is neither of those? That's good."  
"Now, Brandenburg," the Prince-Elector then said, turning back to his country once more. "The Duchess has summoned you; if you would please see her as soon as possible. It's nothing bad," he added when he saw fear flicker in the girl's eyes, "but it is urgent."  
Brandenburg immediately nodded, unhooked her arm from Prussia's, but got onto her toes before turning away and gave Prussia a quick -but not exactly as quickly as she usually did to tease him with- kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for today," she whispered quickly before leaving.  
Prussia felt an unexpected rush of warmth at this combined with the usual awkwardness. But that warmth faded into an icy cold very quickly when he turned to see Russia stare at him with a huge smile.  
"That was sweet," he just commented with his trademark chuckle.  
The Prince-Elector just cleared his throat loudly and caught Prussia's attention with that again. "Right. Now, Prussia, if you would show our young guest his room for the night, please."  
 _Who do you think I am?_ Prussia wanted to protest. _A blasted servant?_ But he restrained himself. _I'll be awesome and do as I'm told,_ he told himself, forcing himself to be calm as he gestured to Russia to follow him.

But once on his way with the Russian happily skipping after him, he only got more uncomfortable with the second. And his discomfort had just about reached its maximum when Russia said flatly, "I hate you, you know?" He sounded unfazed by anything despite his words, which was the eeriest thing Prussia had ever heard. He had expected to _hear_ the hate, to _feel_ it if anyone ever declared their hatred to him. Instead it felt like Russia was just calmly informing him of a fact, as though he were telling him that it was going to rain later that day. "You've hurt me many times," Russia went on with the same eerie calm. "You nationally, you personally. But you know what? I don't really mind." He chuckled again, sounding happy. "Because I know you're an idiot. The country whose people initiated a battle on a frozen lake! It's no wonder you fell through, really."  
"I wasn't there, remember?" Prussia just muttered, trying not to react to Russia's words too much, though he could feel himself going tense. _Calm down. Don't let him get to you; you're awesome. Yeah, you're hell'a fucking awesome. And he's not. You're awesome, he's not._ And besides, the battle Russia was refering to was fought between Russia and the Teutonic Order long ago. And that wasn't Prussia anymore.  
"No, but you represent your people," Russia countered. "And you must be pretty stupid, if that's what you represent. I know you're not lead by the Teutonic Knights anymore, but who cares about details? I don't."  
"I do," Prussia answered, gritting his teeth.  
"But anyway, I-"  
Prussia didn't let him finish speaking; he punched Russia hard in the shoulder to bring him off balance, then kicked him in the chest to have him skidding over the floor. The Russian whimpered when he slid head first against a wall, grunting in pain as he tried to sit up again. But Prussia was faster than him: he stepped on the boy's chest with one foot, pushing him back down. When Russia tried to shake him off, he merely put more of his weight into it, very near to making one of the country's ribs crack under his foot, and Russia lay still immediately. "I hate you, too," Prussia just sneered. "But let's face it, my hate for you is a bigger threat to you, Russia, than your hate is for me."  
Russia only gritted his teeth in anger, but Prussia grinned at this feeble display of defiance, and put just a little more weight onto his chest. Immediately, Russia whimpered again and tried to relax. But he still glared up at Prussia. "One day I'll squash you like a bug," he muttered.  
"Is that a threat?" Prussia just asked, grinning.  
"No. It's a promise."  
"Whatever," Prussia sighed, stepping off Russia again and pulling him up roughly. "Just remember, right now, _you're_ the little bug, and I'm the one trampling you. _Literally._ " Then he kicked open a door, pushed Russia inside and gave him a kick in the back afterward, making him stumble into the room. "Well, here you can rest your head and lick your wounds. Later, Russia."  
Then he quickly turned around and left, before the Russian could recover and go after him. He didn't want to beat him up again.  
But it remained silent behind him, and he realised Russia wasn't even trying to take revenge for this total humiliation.  
Prussia didn't quite know what it was, but something about Russia brought out the worst in him. He didn't even feel sorry -that was probably the worst thing about it. The only good thing, he thought, was that he at least knew he _should_ be sorry about it.

Then Brandenburg appeared around the corner of the corridor and collided with him pretty hard. She giggled as they both regained their balance, then got onto her toes again and kissed him a second time. But now on the lips.  
Pulling away almost immediately, feeling his face grow hot and his heart beating awkwardly loud, Prussia spluttered, "W-what was that all about?!"  
Brandenburg just smirked, still holding him and not seeming to let go anytime soon. "You didn't give me an answer to that exact same question this morning," she told him. "Why should I answer your question now?" And with that, she promptly kissed him again.  
This time he didn't try to stop her, and decided to just let the sensation wash over him. This was the first time he'd been kissed like that, and to be quite honest, it was a rather awesome sensation.  
He waited for her to pull away now, and when she did, he just asked, confused, "So, eh... what was it the Duchess wanted to speak to you about?"  
She just giggled mischievously and turned around. "None of your business."

 _17 December 1640 -P.S._

 _Hm. Okay, maybe I should give this marriage to Brandenburg a try. She won't curse me for it anymore at this point, for sure. Hell, she's the one starting it._  
 _I think I don't mind being married to her anymore, either..._

* * *

 **Yeah, Brandenburg is definitely more fond of him than the other way around. But I think that one was clear from the get-go, wasn't it?**

 **Anyway, for the historical facts: I made Wurtemberg die because I read somewhere that that region lost 3/4 of its people in the Thirty Years' War. Brandenburg-Prussia, mainly Brandenburg though, lost roughly half. Horrible to think about, so many people dying in a single war... It's not the first time, and certainly not the last, as all unfortunately know, but it's so horrible that people are capable of slaughtering one another like that over something like religion.**

 ***sigh* honestly, humanity, _sometimes...!_**

 **And then the thing between Prussia and Russia; I had to introduce him here as well sometime. He's a little late to the show already (only, like, a few centuries or something -_-') and I just couldn't put it off any longer, otherwise the story would totally lose its flow instead of having a little dent in said flow like it does now. And if I didn't adress the hatred between them, the sequel would make no sense at all!  
And the Hetalia Canon in it: there were one or two episodes stating that Prussia, along with others, used to bully Russia a lot when he was little. Then he grew into one of the strongest nations on earth and kicked everyone's asses for it.  
My theory is that the bullying is what made Russia hate Prussia so much and what made him do all the things he did to him when he was East Germany. And of course, when Prussia realised the 'little bug' grew into such a strong, buffed-up killer bee like Russia, he got scared to death by him. Shit happens, Prussia... that why you shouldn't bully people. They come back to bite you.**

 **Anyway, that's it for this week again! I hope you liked it!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Righty, I'm a day late, but this is the longest chapter yet.**

 **TheBlueAcid and Abc, thanks once again for the reviews!**

 **Once again, it's a mix of history, history-inspired stuff and some general Prussia-ness. Yes, that is a word. I just made that into a word.  
I hope you'll enjoy it!**

* * *

 _2 January 1642_

 _Can I just say that the new Wurtemberg is a cutie? Yes? All right._  
 _The new Wurtemberg is a_ _cutie_ _._  
 _Now that we've got that out of the way, on to the less positive news. Being, this family reunion sucks. It was decided that the majority of our huge family at least should get together to celebrate the birth of Wurtemberg's new incarnation last year, but... well, that just doesn't work so well when the majority of said family is at war with one another._  
 _There are constantly fights breaking out between us... I think, by the time we leave for Berlin again, Brandenburg and Bavaria won't be on such good terms anymore. Or Brandenburg and Saxony, for that matter -border skirmish. He wants more territory, that territory just so happens to belong to Brand... the usual._  
 _But I think -aside from conflicting religions- that I'm the cause of the fight between Brandenburg and her little sister. Bavaria has never liked me, and I've never liked her. I know that fights between siblings are sometimes inevitable (if I didn't know that by now, I wouldn't deserve the title of Awesomeness) but I just wish I wouldn't be the reason they're fighting. Brand really cares about Bavaria._  
 _And then there's Holy Rome... this war is taking its toll on everyone by now, but Holy Rome most of all. I've never seen him so pale, so gaunt. Sometimes he just zones out a bit, and is completely apathetic. But then, minutes later, he'll be bossing everyone around as usual. I don't know whether I should be worried or amused when that happens. At least he's still my wonderfully stubborn older brother._

 _Let's hope we'll all survive this little get-together._

Right now, Prussia just watched contently as Brandenburg held the tiny new incarnation of Wurtemberg. She seemed to be doing much better than she had in the past few days. Bavaria and Saxony weren't around to bother her now, so she could just sit there in a little cocoon of bliss as she tried to get Wurtemberg to sleep.  
Prussia, unfortunately, couldn't get inside such a cocoon right now.  
"Prussia," came Hessen's low voice from behind him, and sitfling a sigh, the Prussian turned around to look up at him. The tall country nodded to another room. "Holy Rome wants to talk to you about something."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment, surprised, then nodded silently. Brandenburg was having a rather good day today, but Holy Rome sure wasn't. He hadn't gotten out of bed for more than an hour straight yet, and it was afternoon already. Quietly, Prussia slipped into the room where Holy Rome slept now, Austria sitting beside him. Austria was his main country now, had been for a while. He was the only one more or less keeping the family together now, and, with that, keeping Holy Rome alive. He looked defeated as he looked at Holy Rome's face now, damp and flushed with fever. Prussia guessed it must feel like a personal defeat, seeing how his efforts weren't enough.  
When the Empire spotted Prussia, he turned to Austria and softly asked him to leave. When it looked like Austria would actually protest against this, he insisted, "I won't die if you take your eyes off me for an hour or so. I want some privacy to talk to Prussia. Now go, please."  
Austria hesitated for a moment longer, but then he nodded and got up. "Very well. And please, Holy Rome, when you're done, try to get some sleep again. It should do you good." He then left, but as he passed Prussia, he and the white-haired country shot each other a scorching glare. Just seeing Austria was enough to make Prussia's blood boil. He really hated the dumb aristocrat.  
But he shook his head when Austria had left the room and closed the door behind him, trying to shake those feelings of hatred off. Austria wasn't here now -Holy Rome was. And though their relationship had never become what it used to be anymore, he had no quarrel with Holy Rome anymore, and he guessed it was the same the other way around. Quietly he went to sit beside the Holy Roman Empire, who inspected him for a moment. And Prussia did the same to him, feeling a rush of worry. Holy Rome looked like a 13-year-old at most, just like he had last century, and the one before that. He hadn't grown an inch in ages. Prussia really looked older now -into puberty at least, taller than Holy Rome and having broader shoulders and a less child-like face already. He wasn't so old yet himself, but to think that he had surpassed his older brother in this...  
"Prussia, you're really growing into a fine country," Holy Rome then said, cutting into the silence, a smile paying at his lips. "You really are. Germania... our father would be proud of you. You're exactly what he hoped for all his descendants: strong, independent, loyal. Hardworking and honest -though the latter could use some work now and then, I must add."  
Prussia blinked, stunned silent. He hadn't expected any of this. The last time his older brother had praised him had been before he'd become a duchy, more than a century ago.  
"But most of all, Prussia, you're strong and reliable," Holy Rome went on. "And it is because of that reliability that I want to ask a favour of you."  
"A favour?" Prussia echoed, not sure what to think of this. Would it be something for Holy Rome's own personal gain again? Would it be something Prussia would never want to do, just to make his brother feel better, like 'switching back to catholicism' had been?  
But when the request was spoken, he still didn't know what to think of it. "Please end this for me."  
End what? Prussia didn't understand, though deep inside an icy cold was beginning to spread through his veins already. He didn't understand, but he could guess where this was headed, and hope that he was wrong.  
Holy Rome looked at him for a moment in silence, knowing that Prussia didn't understand what he wanted of him yet. So with a sigh, he started explaining. "I'm tired, Prussia. I'm tired of declining all the time. Prussia, it's like I'm dying -which is probably true, anyway." What to think of this, Prussia still didn't know. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want to hear these things. He didn't want to have this conversation, not now, not ever. But Holy Rome just went on. "I don't want to constantly have to feel like I'm dying an achingly slow death, Prussia. I know you, of all people, can do this. I just know it. So please, I beg of you, end this for me."  
Prussia gritted his teeth, swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat and seemed to be choking him, and asked in the most steady voice he could manage, "And in what way do you want me to end it?"  
Holy Rome didn't hesitate. "In either one of the two only ways possible: unite the family, or kill me. I'm done with this, Prussia, I can't do it anymore. If I'm not going to get better, then I want to die."  
"You have Sissy for that," Prussia snapped, his blood suddenly boiling with anger. Holy Rome couldn't die! He couldn't! And for that, he wasn't allowed to _want_ to die, either. How could he ask for Prussia to kill him? " _He's_ doing a fairly good job, keeping everyone in check."  
"So _that's_ why everyone's killing each other... Hm. Never realised that before."  
"Now's not the time to be funny, Holy Rome," Prussia grumbled, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."  
"Then do as I ask of you!" Holy Rome protested, raising his voice in what sounded eerily similar to desperation. "Please! Austria is doing a good job, I couldn't be happier with him than I am now. He's really working hard for everyone's sake... But, Prussia, it's not enough. I know that you and Austria don't get along very well, but if you could work together, you could unite all of the German territories!" Suddenly, Holy Rome's eyes were shining, though not with liveliness or energy, but solely with hope and a certain admiration. "Prussia, you may not believe it yourself, but I _know_ it's in your power to unite us. All of your qualities I've listed before -strong, independent, loyal and reliable- those are the qualities of a natural leader. You are destined for greatness, Prussia, I know you are. Germania told me -you can do what I was meant to do. You can fulfill the dreams and ideals of the Holy Roman Empire -and of the empire that I was named after."  
Prussia held his breath as he listened. So really, what was Holy Rome asking of him? To become the next Holy Roman Empire? He couldn't do that, no matter what the Empire rambled now. Germania couldn't possibly have told him anything like this. Their father had given a baby to a military christian order of knights -not exactly a way to start a journey towards a great destiny. Not exactly a sign of faith, either. Or compassion. Or anything. Germania had died a few years after Prussia had been born -he'd raised Bavaria in her first years, and her rebirth had been _after_ Prussia's! If anything, Germania giving him away like that was a sign of complete lack of interest. He might have known he was dying, but if he could look after Bavaria then, why not him?  
'Germania told me'... As if!  
He just shook his head and got up slowly. "Get some sleep, Holy Rome," he mumbled, voice devoid of emotion. He was too angry to express any emotion now. "You have a fever... you're not thinking clearly."  
"I'm thinking more clearly than you are," the sick Empire retorted, huffing. But he didn't protest when Prussia pushed his shivering body back down onto his pillow and pulled his sheets up to his shoulders. He seemed to be out of breath and exhausted. He would probably fall asleep before Prussia had a chance to leave the room.  
"No, Holy Rome, you're not," Prussia just told him calmly. "When you wake up again and Austria's here again, ask _him_ this. He's the one uniting the family now. I'm not even part of the Holy Roman Empire."  
"That's where you're wrong," Holy Rome just mumbled, closing his eyes. "You _are_ part of the Holy Roman Empire now. Brandenburg is, and because of your marriage to her, so are you. But you have one advantage over the rest of my territories -you're not part of my territories."  
Prussia just stared down at him. This conversation was getting disturbing. His brother was completely contradicting himself, and Prussia decided it was because of his fever.  
"You're still outside the official borders of the Holy Roman Empire," Holy Rome just told him. "But you have influence in my affairs now. You do. Through Brandenburg. This means, Prussia, that you don't suffer from the same hardships we do, not as much, but you can influence us..."  
Prussia shook his head again. "No one would ever listen to me and Brand," he said.  
"I didn't say anything about Brandenburg," Holy Rome protested. "I was talking about _you_. But very well..." He sighed, and Prussia thought he was finally giving up. "There's something else, though. Could you and Brandenburg please look after Wurtemberg when you go back to Berlin? Take him with you? Going by what I've seen in the past few days, I'm sure Brandenburg wouldn't mind..."  
 _Except maybe for the famine,_ Prussia wanted to protest. _And the diseases. And the demographic shock she's suffering from, just like you are._ "Sure," he just muttered. "We'll look after him."  
"Good," Holy Rome sighed. "Thank you. The kid needs a safe place to grow up for now..."  
Prussia watched for a moment longer, and decided that his brother must've fallen asleep again now, which was probably a good thing. He hadn't been making any sense at all. Thoroughly disturbed by this conversation, he left as quickly as he could, going over to Brandenburg and sitting down beside her.  
She just smiled as he did. "So?" she asked, smiling warmly. "What did he want to talk to you about?"  
For a moment, Prussia longed to blurt out everything to her. She would understand. Of all people, he knew he could trust Brandenburg. But he wanted to forget this conversation as soon as possible, so he decided not to repeat any of it. Instead, he faked a smile and gave her a quick kiss. "Just that we'll get to raise Wurtemberg for now, seeing as we're not involved in the war much."  
The girl smiled wider and leaned against him, placing her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes, completely relaxed. "That should be nice. I hadn't thought he would trust us with raising a member of his Empire."  
"Yeah..." Prussia just mumbled absent-mindedly, staring down at her, trying to calm himself with that. "Neither had I."

* * *

A few days passed, and Holy Rome's request had bothered Prussia through every minute of them. It got him spaced-out, lost in thoughts to the point that his siblings and cousins thought he was just the next victim of a war-torn economy and loss of people, despite his case being less bad than most of theirs. He didn't say anything about it. If they wanted to believe he was getting sick, that was all the better. Much better than admitting the truth -that an unawesome request like that could shake awesomeness like him to this point. He had to keep up appearances at least, and no one could blame him for catching a cold or the flu. For being this bothered by mere words, however, that just wasn't him at all.  
For now at least, he had something else to focus on: namely the disinfecting of a nasty cut on Netherlands's forehead, which he had gotten in a fight with Spain that afternoon. Austria was currently giving the Spaniard a similar treatment for the bruises on his stomach and chest and the scrape along his left arm.  
"You know," Prussia mumbled absent-mindedly as he dabbed at the Dutchman's forehead with a whiskey-drenched piece of cloth. It was the best thing in the house for disinfecting _and_ drinking, and Prussia hoped he could smuggle some of it back to Berlin when he and Brandenburg would go home again in two days. Or else he would journey to Scotland himself to import some of the stuff. Or maybe he would take a detour and go to Ireland for it -he'd heard Scotland's whiskey was great, but Ireland's was the best of all. He didn't know, he'd never had any before. All he knew was that he loved this stuff to bits, and it sure came in handy. He just shook his head and told himself to focus again, thinking hard for a moment to remember what it was he had wanted to say. "I think you should be a little more careful around Spain, _neefje_ ," he told his younger cousin, who hissed in pain as the alcohol seeped into his cut. "Or at least when he's carrying his axe with him."  
"I didn't see the stupid thing," Netherlands protested. "I mean, I saw he had a weapon, but I thought it was a sword -I could've blocked that thing. An axe, however..." He flinched again when Prussia had refreshed the cloth with more whiskey and let the alcohol drip into the wound. To be honest, half the country's face was drenched in blood, though the actual cut wasn't too deep. Headwounds tended to bleed more than any wound of the same size anywhere else.  
"Still, be careful," Prussia just mumbled. "I know the war's going all right for you, but you're not out of the woods yet. This family has had to bury one member due to the war already, don't make it so that we'll have to bury another soon."  
Netherlands sighed. "That might be the case not too long from now, anyway, what with Holy Rome-"  
"Holy Rome will pull through." Prussia was surprised himself at the determination in his voice, but he didn't doubt his words. This war wouldn't be the end of the mighty Holy Roman Empire. No way.  
Netherlands sniffed, understanding now that this wasn't a topic to bring up when Prussia was around. Instead, he started complaining about Spain's cruelty again. "The amount of people he's burnt, just for being Protestant!" he said, sounding angry and horrified. "Can you imagine, being burnt to death for something as trivial as religion?"  
 _I know what it's like to be burnt for my_ _ **appearance**_ _,_ Prussia wanted to say, but instead he shook his head and started cleaning the blood off his cousin's face. The burn scars on his body were still clearly visible. He was glad Brandenburg had never asked about it -she'd just given him a shocked stare when she saw him shirtless for the first time, then a flash of pity and understanding crossed her gaze, and then she seemed to just shrug it off and never brought it up. He was sure she knew why those scars were there, anyway.  
"Hey, have I told you the story of when I tried to cross over to England, at the start of my revolt against Spain?" the young teenager then asked -Netherlands was growing up quickly now that he was one of the strongest countries in Europe, or maybe even in the world. Amsterdam was the trading centre of the world, it seemed. Netherlands himself didn't fight much, and instead spent his years travelling up north to Scandinavia and also Prussia's city of Danzig for trade. He wasn't the natural warrior Prussia was and would never be, but that kid had his own qualities which had brought him greatness. Sometimes Prussia envied him for that, and wished he could do something similar.  
For now, he just shook his head, again dabbing at Netherlands's face to try and clean off a very stubborn, dried-up crust of blood.  
"Well, I tried to get away from my own country and go to England for support against Spain," the Dutch boy began. "I was lucky enough to come across England himself on the seas -and you wouldn't believe his occupation. The reason I 'stumbled into him', was because he was trying to steal my ship. Only when he realised I had nothing on there but supplies such as food, did he give up, the crooked pirate he was then. Well, he allowed me to hop over onto his ship instead, and he would take me ashore in England -so long as I swore not to tell anyone about it, especially not the country I would encounter on the island, calling himself England. That would be Wales, mind you. I don't know what the deal was, but I guess England ran away from home and Wales had to take over for him or something."  
Prussia hummed. That sort of matched up with Scotland's story of England going off pirating and using a human name as he did so. Though Wales having to take his place was something new to him. Prussia almost snickered at the irony -that would have probably gone as willingly as him taking on Austria's identity for a while would!  
"Well, Spain somehow found out where I was before we could get to the shore. He followed us and... well, his ship just happened to be faster than England's. He caught up to us, together with Italy Romano. And you know what? England and I had won, had it not been for Spain's cruel tactics. Romano... Romano had beaten me, so I couldn't help England when Romano attacked him, just after England had disarmed Spain. And the moment England was distracted, Spain grabbed his sword again and _cut him in the ankles._ And the moment England gave up, beaten and unable to even stand? Threw him overboard. Just like that!" Netherlands was tense as he told the story. He wasn't fond of England, but any enemy of Spain was a friend of his right now, that much had been clear for as long as this war had been raging in Europe.  
Prussia just shivered at the idea of being cut like that -he guessed England hadn't been able to walk for weeks. In fact, the cuts must've been shallow, otherwise he would've been unable to walk at all. Still, Prussia couldn't share his cousin's hatred for Spain. His horror at hearing this story was more brought on by pity for England than anger toward Spain for using such a method. He liked the guy -he was good-humoured and fun, a bit awkward and clumsy sometimes, though he could be a bastard on the battlefield, yes.  
The Prussian just cleaned away the last bit of the younger country's blood, then inspected it for a moment, sighing as he came to the conclusion that the wound would turn into a scar. He wasn't against those, but it was a shame to have any in your face like that, where anyone could see them.  
"That's a good thing," Netherlands just commented, though Prussia guessed by his voice that it was to hide his disappointment at that news. "Let the whole world know of Spain's cruelty, _de klootzak._ " Then he sighed and let some of his sadness show, though only a little. "I just wish Southern Netherlands would make more of an effort to stay away from Spain..."  
Southern Netherlands was Netherlands's little sister, born just a few decades ago, when he first declared himself independent from Spain. She was the Spaniard's pride and joy, loyal to him and a hard-working, devout Catholic for her age. 'Much better than her traitor brother,' he had once said about her, after he'd praised her for speaking Spanish to him.  
"I'm sure _Zuidje_ will regain her senses soon," Prussia just said to reassure him, using the girl's nickname, 'Little South'. Though really, he couldn't think of a greater lie right now, except maybe the one he'd been telling himself for so long now -that Holy Rome would pull through and be fine.  
 _Not a lie._  
Netherlands just sighed, taking his word for it. "Thanks for the job you did with my head, anyway," he muttered. "Though I think I'll be having a headache for days still."  
"Probably will," Prussia answered, forcing a smile to cheer himself up as much as his cousin. "You're lucky he didn't split your skull, _neefje!_ "  
They both chuckled for a moment, though they really couldn't tell why. What was there to laugh about? Then Netherlands got up -almost as tall as Prussia now- and thanked him again. "You're really good at this, you know," he commented. Prussia just shrugged and said it wasn't hard to squeeze alcohol into a man's face, but the teen shook his head. "No, really. I'm sure that, if I'd let Saxony lay a hand on me, I'd have gone through Hell and back in pain! You're somehow... gentle when doing stuff like this." He grinned then, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he added, "Which is weird, because you're more the type to chop off someone's head than to fix it again. Maybe Brandenburg has a good influence on you after all."  
Prussia chuckled, a comfortable warmth spreading under his skin. "Probably, yes."

When he and Netherlands left the room they'd been in, they found themselves face-to-face with Spain and Austria, also just finished fixing the Spaniard up again. Beside him, Prussia noticed Netherlands growing tense and gritting his teeth, glaring murderously at Spain, and he himself got a similar reaction at seeing Austria. Had it been anyone else tending to Spain's wounds, he guessed his reaction would've been to ease Netherlands's anger and force him to walk away. Now his own hands were itching to punch Austria just as much as his little cousin appeared to want to fight Spain yet again. Neither of the Habsburg countries seemed to mind it so much, and were ready to fight as much as Prussia and Netherlands were.  
But suddenly there was a sigh furhter down the hallway. "Oh, really, guys are the worst."  
Prussia turned around to see Hungary standing there, looking at the four of them with disapproval written all over her face. Prussia relaxed upon seeing her, feeling a similar kind of warmth as he did near Brandenburg, just a bit more intense, as he was used to by now. He'd grown to care deeply for Brandenburg, but she still couldn't beat Hungary, however much he wished it were different, for her sake and his own.  
But that warmth turned into a freezing cold when he saw Austria's gaze soften upon seeing Hungary there as well. Prussia gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at his cousin. _You've already taken Holy Rome from me,_ he wanted to yell at him. _No way are you taking my oldest, best friend from me as well!_ But he forced himself to relax; Austria was married to Spain already. _And you have Brandenburg._  
But his heart seemed to stop when Hungary walked over to the Habsburg countries and, though giving them both a correctional stare, sided with them as she turned to Prussia. "Don't you think you Protestants have caused enough trouble? Just get out of here, will you? And besides, Netherlands, your forehead is bleeding again; surely you don't want to end up with a concussion?"  
Netherlands just huffed, glared at all three Catholic states again, then turned around and walked away. But Prussia was frozen to the ground as Hungary turned her gaze on him once more. "You're his older cousin, aren't you?" she said accusingly with a glance at Netherlands just before he turned around a corner and vanished from sight. "You should take responsibility and make sure he doesn't get himself into more trouble than necessary! I worry for that poor baby Wurtemberg, being left under _your_ so-called 'care' until the war is over. What was Holy Rome thinking, leaving that child to you and Brandenburg for the time being?" She huffed, raising her chin a little. "Honestly, if I weren't expected to fight, I would've convinced Holy Rome to change his mind and hand that child to me instead. And if _you_ were fighting in this war, Prussia, just know that I would've crushed an irresponsible, arrogant little jerk like you. Trying to pick a fight with Austria, who's done nothing against you all your life!"  
Her words cut into Prussia like knives, until that last sentence. Then his muscles tensed to their maximum, it seemed, hard as steel under his skin, and he had to fight to control himself. Austria had never done anything against him? _He's done_ _ **everything**_ _against me!_ Holy Rome had hardly bothered to talk to Prussia since the Austrian Habsburgs had taken control of the Empire, he'd captured Hungary and in the time that he'd had control over her as well, had apparently brainwashed Prussia's first and best friend into hating the younger country. He was one of the major powers causing trouble for Prussia and Brandenburg now, and yet Austria had _never done anything bad to him?_  
"Get your facts straight, stupid woman," Prussia just snapped at Hungary, and he forced himself to leave now without throwing any punches. He could feel their stares bruning holes into his back, but he managed to walk away without even looking back.

Once he'd found Brandenburg again, he just walked over to her and, without even thinking about it, swung his arms around her in a tight hug. She stiffened at first, but hugged him back heartbeats later, placing her head against his shoulder.  
"What's the hug for?" she asked wwith a chuckle. "Not that I'm complaining."  
Prussia hesitated, but then sighed. "Can't we leave sooner already?" he asked in a whisper. "I'm sick of this place, and I'm sick of Holy Rome and Austria and Hungary."  
"Even Hungary?" Brandenburg asked, stunned, looking up at him in surprise. "How come?"  
Prussia just sighed again and didn't answer, looking away. What had gotten into Hungary all of a sudden, for her to be so against Prussia for no apparent reason at all?  
Brandenburg seemed to understand, and tensed just a little before pulling away from Prussia. She looked at him through narrowed eyes for a moment. "Aw, got your heart broken now, did you?" she said, voice closer to a sneer than it had been for decades. "Gosh, I wonder what _that_ feels like!"  
Knowing instantly what she was refering to, Prussia stared at her indignantly. "I'm _trying_ , Brandenburg, you know I am! But you cannot expect me to just fall in love with you when we both know that _isn't going to happen._ I wish it were possible, but it's just... it's not working, no matter what I try!"  
She blinked sadly at him, and shrugged. "I know... But I can expect you to try and forget about Hungary, can't I? You've been after her for hundreds of years, Prussia, and she isn't even aware of it. And now you're married to _me_ , and you still can't forget about a crush that was hopeless from the start... just like mine is."  
"Yeah, well, I never _planned_ on getting a crush on Hungary, now did I?" he just countered, feeling even worse now that it seemed he was starting to get into a fight with Brandenburg as well, of all people.  
"And I never planned on caring about you quite the way I do now," was Brandenburg's flat answer. "I thought you were an arrogant prick. Fun to be around, but way too into himself to live with for a longer period of time. But it turns out you're all that, and really kind on top of it. Strange as it may sound, Prussia, it's your world-sized ego that I like." Her voice had grown gradually warmer again as she spoke, and she was now smiling at Prussia as she both insulted him and praised him for his personality at the same time. It was rather unusual, he thought, but he remained silent. "You're arrogant in a loveable way. Sometimes it's actually kind of adorable!" Brandenburg giggled for a moment, then added more softly, "Most of all, though, I like how you seem to have gotten happier since we've started living together. I think you were just lonely, and I'm happy my presence helped you feel better again."  
Prussia just stared at her, grateful for her words, even though they were the last things he'd expected to hear. He had prepared to get into another verbal fight, with the one person he'd thought he could always rely on to cheer him up when he felt down. It seemed that trust was well-placed. Once again he wondered why he didn't love her like he felt he should: he wanted to, he really did, especially since he'd found out that Brandenburg had defied everything they had considered possible and had developped a crush on him. But nothing he did could take away Hungary from his mind and replace her with Brandenburg instead. He felt sorry to her about that, but what could he do about it?  
"I now see how you could've been so lonely way back when, though," Brandenburg snickered, forgetting their little fall-out and giving him a playful shove. "You don't make it very easy for people to like you, unfortunately. As I just told you, Prussia, your personality takes some time to warm up to. Maybe if you could keep the 'awesomes' for when a person starts to get to know you better... Perhaps that could help."  
He just smiled at her, a smile that soon turned into his trademark cocky grin. "No way. The awesome me doesn't compromise!"  
"It's _your_ social life's funeral, Prussia."

* * *

 _9 May 1646_

 _Fighting has finally stopped! Now the countries that had been fighting in the war will finally work on their treaties to end it officially. I don't think they will stop fighting immediately, but hey, at least they're working on it now._  
 _The Holy Roman Empire has surrendered. But Holy Rome is still alive!_  
 _...Which reminds me, how happy should I be about that? He wants it all to end, and these treaties will make matters worse for him. Should I wish for you to die then, Holy Rome? Should I pray that you'll be spared the worst of the pain, the illness, the suffering that's to come for you?_

 _Oh, Brandenburg, you can start recovering now! She's lost nearly half her population due to all the consequences of war. I hope she'll be doing better soon. She will, of course -she's still mrs Awesome._  
 _And Wurtemberg will be heading home soon, then... That's actually quite a shame. Once he stopped giving me, Brand and all the staffmembers here sleepless nights, he ended up being cute again. He's a toddler now -can't walk yet, though, and only manages to splutter some sounds resembling words, but he can't speak yet. There's something strange about one of his legs... I wonder if that affects how quickly he'll learn to walk instead of crawl? Probably does._

 _Well, I'll be looking forward to the signing of the treaties! I've never wanted a war to end so badly as I want this one to be over, except maybe the Prussian Conquest. That one was a bitch. But back then, I only had myself to worry about, not an older brother, cousins, a wife and a sorta-kinda-child. I swear, at the rate things are going with Wurtemberg, he'll think of Brand at least as his mother._  
 _That's kind of disturbing._

* * *

 **People who've read Rising might recognise the scene Netherlands described: the full flashback-version of it, as seen through England's eyes, appeared in that story as well! Just as my first example that, yes, I'll try to create an overlap between different installments of Historical Hetalia.**

 **I think that, in Holy Rome's situation, I'd have committed suicide ages ago, even though I'm anti-suicide. Such a slow but certain death? No thank you. I guess he's even tried before, really -but that kind of thing is impossible for nations, poor guy.**

 **And my theory of how Netherlands got his scar: not in an awesome showdown on the battlefield, but in a fistfight gone wrong.**

 **Next up: Peace of Westphalia~!**

 **I hope you liked the chapter!**


	23. Chapter 23

**And hello again! I finished this one early for a change!  
TheBlueAcid, thanks for the review, and A Storm of Leaves, thanks for the follow!  
Hm... did Brand look like she went bipolar? ':D... all righty... I think it would be very frustrating to be in love with someone and actually be married to that person, but still having to put up with them being more interested in someone else than in you. So the feeling I intended to get across was her frustration... but this sounds fine too! (she's a bit weird emotionally anyway)  
**

 **Well, as I promised, have the 'Peace' of Westphalia in this chapter! I sure hope I got the history right...**

* * *

 _15 May 1648_

 _Today, we have to go to the signing of the treaties that together make up what is to be called the Peace of Westphalia. Today will be the ratification of the Peace of Munster, between the Dutch Republic (yes, my cousin is now officially recognised as a republic... the weirdo) and the Spanish Kingdom, and two other treaties will be signed as well. Though not all involved parties will sign it today -there are 109 of them. That's a bit... much. I've never seen a peace treaty this humongous._  
 _Yes, 'humongous' is the right word to use here, for 'huge' is the understatement of the century. Hey, even someone as awesome as I am can sometimes lack better words, all right?_  
 _Well, bad news is... Holy Rome can't even be here. I mean, he's here all right, but not really. He's mostly in another room, actually unconscious most of the time... Poor Holy Rome, once again._

 _Well, I'll be one my way now with Brandenburg to head back to Munster, as we're staying a little way out of the city. And once the Awesome Us arrive there, let's get these signatures on paper!_

By noon, Brandenburg-Prussia ran into the conference hall, but when he saw many gazes, both humans and countries, turn on the two of them, Prussia halted and tugged on Brandenburg's arm to get her to slow down as well. Then, in the most dignified manner he could manage, chin up, he walked to his seat. "Well," he mumbled to Brandenburg under his breath, "it seems we're awesomely late, Brand. That's good. The same as being stylishly early."  
"Just say we're late, you fool," she sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance.  
Austria, representing both his own land and filling in Holy Rome's entire role for today, just blinked at them, expressionlessly. "Just hurry up and sit down, both of you. We've already started without you."  
Prussia met his gaze and tried his hardest to get his message across in that one look. _I don't freaking care, you dumb aristocrat._ Then he sat down, with Brandenburg beside him.  
Austria took the word again, speaking first today, a greeting to countries and human representatives. Prussia got bored with him soon, and looked around at the countries there. He recognised Spain, France, Sweden and most of his family members, though he had to guiltily admit that even after all this time, there were some apparently-German states there that he did not recognise. One of them had shoulderlength blonde hair with striking, dark green eyes. The young teen looked up at Austria with a gaze filled with contempt. Prussia snorted at this. At least he wasn't the only one who disliked the Austrian Habsburg Sissy shit. Then another green gaze focused on Austria caught his eye, and he scowled. Hungary was looking at his cousin with a certain admiration that got his blood boiling. That, and he still hadn't forgotten her sudden, reasonless hatred towards Prussia, and he was still angry about it. Quickly he looked away again.  
Then the Netherlands went to take Austria's place and started speaking, repeating the main points of the Peace of Munster. "All involved parties must henceforth recognise, and abide by the rules set in the Peace of Augsburg in the previous century. In every country in Europe, there should be a minimum amount of religious freedom; any christian, whether Catholic, Lutheran or Calvinist, should be allowed to practice their religion. If their faith differs from the dominant religion they should at least be able to safely practice their faith in their own homes."  
Prussia listened, feeling a twinge of pride that the Protestants had won this war and were now finally granted the rights they had claimed so long ago. He wondered, though, whether it would last.  
Netherlands finished his speech, and then the boy Prussia had noticed earlier stood up and took his place. He nodded politely to the Republic as they passed each other, but once ready to speak, glared at Austria briefly with unhidden hatred. He controlled himself when speaking, however. "Also included in this treaty are several territorial changes: from this day onward, the _de facto_ independence of Switzerland from the Holy Roman Empire is to be formally recognised by all involved parties."  
 _Switzerland!_ Of course, Prussia could've guessed that one. Switzerland and Austria used to be very close, but when Austria gained more power in the Holy Roman Empire and said Empire began to occassionally treat both countries as a single state, that friendship had soon died out. A few decades ago, Switzerland had been declared _de facto_ independent from the Empire. Well, he finally got what he wanted now.  
As Switzerland sat down again, Sweden stepped up. He looked calm and collected as ever, though he and Brandenburg sent each other a brief but scorching glare just before he began speaking. Prussia didn't listen to him: he knew most of it already. He also knew that nothing was certain yet about what he was going to say.  
Beside Prussia, Brandenburg was tense all over, seemingly willing Sweden to drop dead with her gaze. "Stupid asshole," she muttered under her breath, and Prussia had to suppress a chuckle at hearing the fire in her voice. "Pomerania is _mine_."  
"Negotiations about the succession of the Ducal throne of the Duchy of Pomerania continues, as no definitive border has been set yet," Sweden declared after listing a few points concerning his kingdom in this treaty.  
At this, Brandenburg jumped up before Prussia could even stop her. Considering he had guessed something like this was coming, that was quite an achievement. "What border?!" she yelled at him, and immediately there were a few shocked gasps in the large hall, and nearly all eyes were on her, others turned on Sweden, and only some on Prussia, who gave another feeble tug on Brandenburg's arm, not wanting to look too angry at her in front of everyone. In fact, he wasn't angry at all, rather embarrassed. Well, a mixture of embarrassed and proud, more like it, because damn, his wife had some awesome fire inside of her still. "We don't need to creat a _border,_ Sweden, you need only give me what is rightfully mine!"  
"Brand, _please,_ " Prussia pleaded with her, feeling some stares turn on him now, too, probably wondering either why he didn't try harder to stop her, or why he didn't try harder to defend her. He just decided the happy middle, trying to calmly get her to sit down again without looking like he wanted to surrender Pomerania to Sweden, was the way to go now. Easier said than done, though. "Just sit down. You know negotiations are for another day. And when that day comes, _we'll_ emerge victorious, as we always will."  
"Shut up, Prussia," Brandenburg just snapped, too angry at Sweden to even care _who_ she was snapping at. The white-haired country just flinched and remained silent after that, worriedly inspecting the scene unfolding before his eyes. And those of nearly all of the Holy Roman Empire and European main powers.  
 _Well,_ he tried to calm himself, _at least she doesn't give them the impression she's weak after this war..._  
"Pomerania is rightfully _mine,_ " Sweden retorted, angry.  
From the corner of his eye, Prussia saw a young man flinch in a way similar to himself just now, and he guessed that must be Finland, Sweden's... 'wife', if you had to believe Sweden himself.  
"Oh really now?" Brandenburg laughed, an angry, blood-chilling laugh. She always acted colder and more stubborn than she really was when it was about matters such as these, to appear as strong as her opponents or stronger, when really, she had no army ready when a real fight broke out. Prussia made a mental note of having to take care of that problem soon. "Since when do your people have a legal claim to the throne of Pomerania? Because _mine_ have it; bloodties and all those _required_ things for having a legal claim on _any_ country."  
Sweden retorted that she had nothing to defend her claims with other than that; nothing to defend _herself_ with. As he said that, Prussia realised once again what a large, strong and mighty kingdom Sweden was. If it came to a fight, Brandenburg would lose without a doubt.  
Without hesitation, Prussia stood up now. "Wrong," he answered calmly, but with a certain, threatening edge to his voice. "She has _me._ "  
Sweden eyed him curiously, after which his usually expressionless face twisted into a smallbut satisfied grin. "And _that_ just makes me _shudder in fear_ , Prussia, really. Pomerania is mine, just give up already."  
Prussia gritted his teeth at this personal insult. "It would do you good to realise that I'm a force to be reckoned with," he said, raising his voice a little for everyone to hear his words. "All of you!"  
"Your history is hardly one of glory," Austria put in calmly, his dark blue eyes fixed on Prussia. "These threats, though it is noble of you to want to defend Brandenburg, will only lead to your early demise. Sit down Prussia. Brandenburg, Sweden, you too. This is a day for reviewing the treaty we have established and to sign it. Further negotiations will come later."  
Prussia just turned his glaring red gaze on Austria, shoulders tense once more, his nails scraping a layer from the wooden table he leaned on. Austria should realise what business was him, and what wasn't, and stay out of the latter. _I'll show you how glorious the Duchy of Prussia can be,_ he vowed silently, hatred for the aristocrat making his blood boil. _Just wait and see; one day I'll be so strong, I'll crush you like a flea!_  
At the same time, Brandenburg was confronting Sweden about Pomerania again as if Austria had never said a word. "What is so difficult about giving up some land, Sweden?" she taunted him. "Scared that your kingdom will suffer from it if you hand Pomerania to its rightful owner? I thought you had more confidence than a five-year-old, but apparently you do not."  
Then Saxony joined in. "If giving away a small stretch of land is no issue according to you," he began with a glare in her direction, "why are you making such a fuss about the land I want?"  
"That's _my_ land," Brandenburg snapped at him. "You have no right to claim an inch of it."  
Suddenly the large doors to the hall swung open, and the Holy Roman Empire stumbled in. His face was twisted in a mixture of discomfort and the purest of anger. "Be quiet, all of you!" he roared, his voice stronger than Prussia had believed was possible. Confidently he walked up to the middle of the hall, staring every single country gathered there in the eyes with a dominant gaze. "This is a day for peace!" he told them angrily. "How dare you violate the laws of this day for your pointless fights?" He then turned to his territories in particular, gasping for breath for just a moment before roaring at them, "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE _UNITED!_ " Just then, on the last word, his voice faltered, and he ended up coughing harshly. But he recovered quickly, swaying only a heartbeat before continuing, less fiercely now, "What is the point of the Holy Roman Empire, if the majority of its territories doesn't even _want_ to work together with the rest of it? For this Imperial union to work, _you_ have to learn to _work together_!"  
"What if some of us don't _want_ this union to work?" Saxony challenged him, and a shocked silence seemed to fall in the entire building. Everyone was staring at Saxony, the only person who had dared to speak the one thing many of them appeared to have been thinking, but no one had dared to admit. Holy Rome himself stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, but then collected himself again and met his gaze with a calm and even stare.  
Saxony seemed stunned by his own words for a moment, but then determinedly went on, "I'm sorry, Holy Rome, but it's true: we've been trying this since the year 800, and it's not working out yet! I think it's time to give up. This family will never unite. It was the division of cultures and peoples that killed the Roman Empire, and so many like him; Germania, for one, Britannia, you name it! And now it is killing you as well. Holy Rome, I don't even care anymore! I'm done with this whole 'Holy Roman Empire' gimmick -it's foolish hope at this point!" He sighed and shook his head. "I have my own people to live for, Holy Rome. _They_ have my priority, and they always will. This Empire of yours can go to Hell for all I care, it's not worth the time and energy anymore. It's not worth the _blood spilled over you_ anymore. I'm done with it."

Saxony didn't get to say anything more, for Prussia's fist collided hard with his face, the force of it knocking him right from his chair. At this point, the Prussian didn't even care anymore about everyone staring at him as though he were the most terrifying creature they'd ever seen. In fact, _he loved it._  
For now, he towered over Saxony, who pushed himself up from the floor to glare up at his younger brother. "So long as there's Holy Rome," he declared with conviction put into every single syllable he spoke, "there's an Empire to live for. Do not forget that your precious people are _his_ people as well. Imagine where you would've been without support from your allies within the Holy Roman Empire!"  
"Somewhere better, I reckon," Saxony retorted, getting to his feet and giving his sore jaw a tentative rub as he did so. "Don't stick your nose in business that isn't yours, Prussia."  
Prussia narrowed his eyes at this, meeting Saxony's brown stare with a defiant glare. Business that wasn't his? _Please!_ He half felt like laughing at that ridiculous statement. Holy Rome himself had said that his business was now Prussia's as well. _And I'm nothing like Austria, meddling with matters he has nothing to do with._  
"You have no idea what it's like to be part of a decadent Empire like this, you little shit," Saxony snapped at him, looking ready to punch him back. For this once, there was no trace of his usual laughter and good-humoured spirit. "It's _Hell,_ Prussia. Constantly being pulled into trouble that wouldn't be there if that Empire didn't exist. You'll see for yourself one day. Countries cannot be this big, this divided. It kills the person representing the union, and it kill the parties involved in it. This war was only another example of that fact."  
"Enough," Holy Rome cut in, staring blankly at both of them. "Prussia, I appreciate you stepping up for me like this, but it is in no way necessary for you to do so. Please return to your seat and stay there. Brandenburg, I would appreciate it if you sat down again as well, and the same goes for you, Saxony, Sweden. I want to hear no more arguments about borders today, you hear me? Finish this conference and sign the Treaty like you're supposed to." He glanced briefly at Saxony before turning away. "You should have no objections to that, Saxony: sign the Treaty, and you'll be signing my death sentence."  
With that, he walked away again, closing the doors behind him, leaving everyone, country and human, to stare after him.  
Eventually it was France who got up and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention back to the matter at hand. "Well, let's finish our business, shall we?"

* * *

By the time they were done and the Peace of Munster was signed, Prussia and Brandenburg walked off together. Their representatives had decided to stay here and discuss some things with other countries' delegations, so they had to keep hanging around a bit longer as well. Part of Prussia wanted to go check on Holy Rome, but he had no idea where he was now, and quite honestly, another part of him wanted to stay away from the Empire.  
Brandenburg was tense and seemed rather angry, but Prussia knew better. She was completely stressed out. Her agressiveness about the border skirmishes that day had been a clear sign of that as well: she would look agressive to everyone who didn't know her well, but to Prussia, she looked only desperate and backed into a corner, which was probably exactly how she felt.  
The girl sighed. "Can we just go into the gardens, Prussia?" she asked softly. "I don't want to run into anyone else today..."  
No, he could understand that. They'd both had a pretty bad outburst that day, and others were sending them curious or even hostile stares occassionally. The sooner they were out of here, the better, to give everyone, including themselves, a chance to forget this failed peace treaty. Many countries were wandering through the halls now, conversating with allies or former enemies, though the latter was a rare sight they'd only seen once so far: Austria talking to Sweden. One conversation they'd come across had gotten Prussia's blood boiling. Once again, countries were picking on someone for simply being _different._ Yes, Prussia himself thought that the concept of a republic, in this day and age, was absolutely ridiculous, but he would never say so to Netherlands's face. Others were doing do right now. He glanced over his shoulder to where his young cousin stood, France and Bavaria standing there with him, telling him how impossible it must be to create a stable government in a _republic._ "You really need a king for that, little one," France said mockingly.  
 _Well, a duke would do a great job as well, mind you,_ Prussia wanted to tell him. _Stupid kingdom._  
Instead of paying any more attention to that, he nodded to Brandenburg as an answer to her earlier question. "Sure," he just answered, grabbing her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "There must be a good place to hide there somewhere!" He chuckled, until Brandenburg joined in with him. He liked hearing her laugh; he liked hearing that a lot more than hearing her yell at other countries in such a desperate manner, at least. That was something he didn't want to repeat ever again.

It took them a few minutes to find a sheltered spot in the gardens, but when they did, they hesitated not a moment to sit down there. It was hidden from view in three directions by bushes and in the shade of a tree -which was a good thing for Prussia most of all, since it was getting bright outside again- so the chance that anyone would run into them there was pretty small.  
"And now what if our people are done," Brandenburg began, flopping down onto the grass on her back and stifling a yawn, "and they can't find us?"  
"They make us wait for them," Prussia just answered with a shrug. "They can return the favour." He sighed, laying down beside Brandenburg then and staring up at the clouds. Once again they gave him a feeling they had many, many years ago. How could the sky stay so calm, when down on Earth things were so tense and messy? He should really learn to control his temper more and be like the clouds: calm and collected, even in the darkest and most turbulent of times. Today he just couldn't stand listening to Saxony, though he had to admit his brother was probably right about Holy Rome. _You have no idea what it's like to be part of a decadent empire like this._ No, he didn't. And he didn't want to. His wish to be a part of the Holy Roman Empire was something of a far away past. It just wasn't him anymore. He wanted to at least be part of something great, and the Holy Roman Empire nowadays was far from great. But he also couldn't listen to anyone declaring that the Holy Roman Empire should end; he had served it all his life, as a Teutonic Knight, as the Teutonic State, and now as part of Brandenburg-Prussia. And between that time, personally, he had been more loyal to Holy Rome than to Poland. It couldn't end. It could never end.  
"I'm sorry for how I acted today, Prussia," Brandenburg mumbled after a little while, when Prussia was just about starting to doze off. He opened his eyes again and stared at her. She had her gaze fixed on the sky, a sad shimmer in them. "I'm sorry for challenging Sweden and dragging Saxony into it as well... and with that, you. I know there are better ways of dealing with these things, but I just... I keep coming back to this old technique of being the first to threaten, hoping the others will not react to it." She glanced at him, inspecting him for a moment, then she sighed and looked back up at the clouds. "You don't have to protect me, Prussia. I know I'm not strong, but how can I change that, if you're constantly jumping to my defense? It's not that I don't appreciate your efforts, I really do, but..."  
"I understand," Prussia just mumbled in response. "It's okay, really. I can help you get stronger; personally and on a national scale." He rolled onto his side then and looked at her intently, an idea suddenly popping into his head. "Let me train the army, when we have one," he suggested. "I'm strong: I have many more years of battle behind me than our soldiers will have of _life._ I can train them to be the greatest military power in all of Europe, just wait and see, Brand."  
Brandenburg just smiled at him, slight amusement making her eyes twinkle. "There is the arrogance I like again," she whispered, lips twisting into an even wider smile. "But all right, you're right. You're the strongest country I know. Well, physically that is. Nationally... I'm afraid our cousin was right. But I'm certain you can bring about a change in that as soon as you get the chance."  
Prussia smirked and grabbed her hand, holding it firmly in his own. "I will, I promise. Our army will be the strongest Europe has ever seen! Nothing like what happened in the past decades will ever happen to us again."  
Brandenburg just smiled warmly at him, then shoved his way and pressed against him, still holding his hand. Prussia just wrapped his free arm around her, relaxing as she gently kissed him for just a moment, then placed her head against his chest and closed her eyes.  
They sure were a strong union now, he knew that for a fact. He had no secrets from Brandenburg, and she had none for him. That made for a union based on trust, which was the strongest one could get. He knew Brandenburg trusted him with her life, and though he couldn't quite say the same if it were battles his life depended on, any other situation, it was exactly the same the other way around. And should they ever find themselves in a battle, he knew Brandenburg would put her life on the line for him, despite not being very strong and confident of her own skills.  
And he loved her. It must be possible to love more than one person at the same time, because that was the only way he could explain this. Maybe it wasn't equally divided between the two, but he loved Brandenburg as he did Hungary. They were both pretty much the most important people in his life to him. His very first friend, and his wife and best friend. He couldn't imagine life without either of them. Really, it was easier to imagine a world without Holy Rome than it was to imagine a world without Hungary or Brandenburg, and a world without Holy Rome was an entirely alien concept to him already.

"Well," a voice suddenly jolted them both out of their thoughts, and Prussia looked up. Holy Rome stood there in the gardens, watching them with a smile. "I'm glad to see this marriage isn't the worst thing in your lives anymore." That was all he said before walking off again.  
They both stared at him until he disappeared from view, and Prussia wondered what had happened to his brother for a moment. When his situation had started deteriorating, Holy Rome had become fierce and easily agitated for ages. Now it seemed like he was becoming his old, calmer and more gentle self again. Prussia couldn't say he would miss the fierceness and the harshness.  
"He's right," Brandenburg sighed, laying back down again and pressing herself to Prussia's side. "It's really not the worst thing in our lives anymore, is it? We're much better off together than we would be alone. To me at least... I think it's quite possibly the best thing in my life."  
He hugged her close again, silently agreeing. They really were much better off together than alone. They might have been absent today, but Brandenburg had the communicative skills, the diplomacy and sometimes even charisma a country needed in the world as it was now. Prussia had the wits, strategic skills and physical strength. Together they were a great team, and he wouldn't give it up for anything. They would need both sets of skills in further negotiations about their borders not too long from now.

* * *

 **Someone asked for fluff? I hope this was fluffy enough for now!**

 **Also, the history: right around this time, Brandenburg-Prussia was having quite a bit of trouble about borders with both Sweden and Saxony. Pomerania's royal family died out in the Thirty Year's War, and as far as bloodties went, the Brandenburgians were the legal successors. However, during the war, Pomerania had been under Swedish control, and, well... the usual stuff followed, really. Similar kind of story about the thing with Saxony, I believe, but it's a while since I read about that.  
As for people mocking Netherlands for being a republic: the Republic was both respected and mocked, really. Respected for the strong economy and mocked for the fact that the Netherlands was the only republic in the world at the time. Kind of the weirdos of Europe, but we did a good job at it at least (especially being weird -I'm a perfect example of that).  
 _(No, I don't mean 'weird' in a disrespectful way)_**

 **Then for Prussia's suggestion of training an army: after the Thirty Years' War, Brandenburg-Prussia created a standing army. Until that time, many countries only had an army ready when there was also a war going on. Brandenburg-Prussia actually started training soldiers, much like armies are trained for battle and survival nowadays. Smart move, I must say. But more details about this are for a later chapter.**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hiya! Sorry 'bout this chapter being late, I was kinda busy this weekend...**

 **Ah well.**

 **Shadowonwater, thanks for the favorites and follows! And as per usual, thanks to TheBlueAcid and Abc for the lovely reviews~  
Now there's a little thing in this chapter that's kind of new... All right, I've done it before in this story, but it's not as big a thing as it was in Rising and Trouble.  
It's Brandenburg's time to shine.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

The loud clang of metal meeting metal sounded again and again, splitting the air. Once in a while, one of the men would let out a short battlecry, attacking fiercely, not holding back.  
Brandenburg sat beside her elector as she watched the battle training. These four men who were now showing their leader their process were the best in the army. She was proud as she watched them go about their mock battle, three against one. But her heart fluttered most of all when she focused her gaze on the pale figure moving nimbly between his three attackers, blocking attack after attack. He hadn't been hit once, though he seemed too busy keeping up his defenses to react offensively himself. Nonetheless, Prussia was a natural warrior.  
Suddenly she saw something flash in her husband's red eyes, and she knew what would come next; Prussia jumped to avoid two swords coming at him at the same time, then thrust his own blade in between the two. With a movement too fast for Brandenburg to see, he twisted his own sword in such a way that he disarmed both men in a matter of heartbeats. And while they were stunned with surprise for a moment, he went for the third. He jumped, knocked his opponent's blade away with his own, got behind him and grabbed the human's arm, which he quickly immobilised with a tight grip with one hand, and the other pressing his sword against it. Then, in a last, swift movement, he plucked the man's sword from his hand and took it into his own. He moved quickly out of reach of the soldiers, one sword pointing at the human soldier he'd just disarmed, the other in the others' direction.  
Beside Brandenburg, the elector, Frederick William, got to his feet, giving all four soldiers a short applause. The margraviate followed his example, though her dark blue eyes were focused solely on her husband.  
"Bravo, men, very well done," Frederick William praised them, approaching the men. All four of them were gasping for breath now that their fight was over. He turned to the humans first, whose faces were glistening with sweat. "You're all without a doubt remarkably strong and skillful in battle. Why, the three of you nearly beat Prussia! I don't think I've ever seen him so close to being defeated; you should be proud of yourselves." Then he turned his gaze to the white-haired teenager, his eyes shining with pride. Prussia just barely reached the other soldiers' shoulder in height, and couldn't match any of them in breadth of shoulders or muscles. Yet, he had once again beaten these three soldiers in a three-to-one fight. "You are truly a one-man army, young man," the elector praised him. "In perfect shape, as always. I could hardly expect anything less from you, Prussia."  
Prussia dipped his head, still too much out of breath to answer with words. Brandenburg just went to stand beside him and hooked her arm with his. She wasn't surprised to feel him shiver as he stood there; exhaustion would've made her collapse within less than a tenth of the time that Prussia had spent there, fighting, if she'd done the same thing. She made a mental note to herself of having to make sure he could take it easy for at least an hour after this.  
"It won't be long before we'll be dragged into Poland and Sweden's war," the elector then went on, refering to the war between Sweden and the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth, which had started earlier that year, 1655. "Not with Prussia being a fief to Poland. But after seeing you train just now, I am certain that if and when the time comes, we'll be ready." The man let his gaze trail over each of the soldiers before he declared proudly, "I've no doubt that the Prussian army has the potential to be the greatest in the world!"  
 _ **Brandenburg**_ _-Prussian,_ Brandenburg almost corrected him. _I know we live in Konigsberg more than Berlin now, but these men are still a mix of Brandenburgians and Prussians._ But, she had to admit, Prussia deserved to have this army under his name: he had trained them himself, having put hours of hard labour into honing their skills with swords and crossbows over the past few years.  
Their leader then dismissed the soldiers and went away himself shortly after, leaving the two countries alone for a moment. Just what Brandenburg had hoped for. Her mind buzzing with pride, she got onto her toes and kissed Prussia on the cheek. His skin was warm, damp and salty with sweat, and she suppressed a slight grimace at that. Instead, she just smiled warmly at Prussia. "Forget anything I've ever said about you being a war maniac," she told him, remembering suddenly her harsh critique on her cousin several centuries ago. "You were right back then: you're a natural. You fight as if you were born to do so."  
Prussia just grinned at her, though he remained silent. Looking him directly in the eyes for the first time after the training session, she noticed his red irises were dull, his gaze a little too absent-minded to her liking. Not only that, he was still shivering, and breathing deeply as though he was still trying to catch his breath.  
She blinked at him, feeling a twinge of worry. "Are you feeling all right, dear?"  
Prussia sighed; he knew he couldn't lie to Brandenburg. She was one of the few people who could always, without fail, see through the mask of arrogance he wore nearly 24 hours a day. "I'm... I'm just a bit dizzy," he confessed, which was all he needed to say for Brandenburg to drag him over to where she and their leader had sat earlier. The younger of the two countries let out a grateful sigh as he could finally sit down for a moment, but then looked at Brandenburg almost apologetically.  
Whatever he wanted to say to her, he didn't get the chance. Brandenburg just huffed and sent an angry glare in the direction in which the elector had just left. " _In perfect shape, as always,_ " she mimicked him, frowning. "Yeah, right. The guy can't even tell when one of his own countries is sick!"  
"I felt fine before we started," Prussia said softly. Brandenburg scowled at his tone. He sounded way too meek right now, almost enough to make her question whether this was really Prussia, known throughout Europe first and foremost for his boasting.  
"He shouldn't have made you do this," Brandenburg just sighed, grabbing his hand and holding it gently. "If you hadn't done something so straining, I'm certain you would _still_ be feeling fine."  
Prussia held her gaze for a few heartbeats, then averted it. He looked ashamed about this. "I'm sorry," he just mumbled. "I don't want to be a burden to anyone."  
"You've been taking care of me through three decades of war," Brandenburg told him. "Now you're the one who'll be dragged into another war; I'll be taking care of you through every year of it, even if it's going to last a century." She smiled then and forced a chuckle over her lips, gently stroking a strand of his white hair out of his face. "And besides, I hardly think you'll be a burden, even if you're sick. You weren't before, not even when you were recovering from a war and the plague at the same time! On top of that, you just beat three soldiers single-handedly while being ill. Trust me, you won't be a burden."  
The younger country narrowed his red eyes, frowning for a moment. And, for just a heartbeat, he almost looked as if he were pouting. "I just don't like this," he muttered. "It makes me feel so unawesome."  
That made Brandenburg laugh; he was always going on about 'awesome this' and 'awesome that'. She didn't know who had first taught him that word, but whoever did it had sure ruined his mind. He was hooked on it now. She patted him on the shoulder, still laughing, and tried to silence herself. Meanwhile Prussia only looked at her, brows furrowed, clearly not understanding what was so funny about it. "You worry about the silliest things," Brandenburg told him. "You've just beaten three well-trained soldiers in combat -and even though it was a training session I can tell they went all-out on you- and that while you weren't even healthy enough to fight with your true potential. You say you feel unawesome? I say you need to reconsider at what point you can start calling something awesome, because _that_ was one of the best things I've ever seen."  
"You're really just here to make me feel better, aren't you?" Prussia chuckled, getting to his feet again. He smiled as he looked over his shoulder at Brandenburg, and the look he gave her warmed her heart. It did so every time. By now it didn't even sting anymore, knowing that he cared more about Hungary than he did her, because now, he _did_ care more about Brandenburg than his old friend. It looked like it at least. "Let's go inside again," he suggested. "It's unawesomely chilly outside when you've just been exercising like that and stopped moving afterwards!"  
"You go ahead," Brandenburg said gently. "Try to get some rest. I need to speak to Frederick William for a moment, if I can find him."  
Prussia looked at her a moment longer, clearly curious, but he didn't ask any questions. Instead he nodded silently and walked away, Brandenburg going the other direction, after their leader. When she was certain he wouldn't look back at her, she glanced at him over her shoulder. She had an idea on how to avoid getting into too much trouble in this war, but Prussia wouldn't be pleased with it. _But this is my turn to take care of you for a change,_ she told him in silence. _Just trust me, Prussia. You're not the only strategist in this union._

* * *

"What?!" Prussia exclaimed as he read the treaty that was just shoved under his nose. He'd known his leader and Brandenburg had been keeping something from him for months now, but he hadn't known about an upcoming treaty with Sweden until now, 7 January 1656, when it was already signed. And he didn't like what he was reading. "No! No, I will not-! You can't just-! _Brand!_ "  
The girl flinched when Prussia suddenly turned to her like that. "W-we were forced into this, Prussia," she stammered defensively. "I'm sorry, I know we should have told you sooner, but-"  
"But what?!" Prussia yelled at her, red eyes blazing with anger now that he knew his wife had been in on this, yet hadn't taken the time to even warn him about it. "It was too difficult for you to tell me that you're making me _Sweden's vassal_ instead of Poland's? Why didn't I get a say in this?"  
"Because we didn't have a say in it, either!" Brandenburg insisted, staring up at Prussia with round blue eyes, shimmering apologetically. "Prussia, _it was forced upon us._ I swear to you, Prussia, I-"  
"I trusted you!" Prussia interrupted her, too enraged to even want to listen to her stupid excuses. He had trusted Brandenburg with all his heart, and she had betrayed that trust. She couldn't expect him to just listen to her now and accept whatever she said.  
But Brandenburg grabbed both his hands, and Prussia could feel her fingers tremble with guilt, the same emotion that lay clear in every feature of her face. "I know, and I'm sorry," she said softly, voice barely more than a whisper. "But aside from not telling you, I swear I didn't have anything to do with this." She stared at him for a moment longer, then hugged him, and Prussia fought the urge to push her away. He was angry, yes, but who could guarantee that she was lying? Maybe she was telling him the truth, and if that was the case, he didn't want to act his anger out on her. "I understand you may not want to hear this," she whispered, and it was now clear to Prussia that she didn't want anyone else, human or Sweden, to hear her talking now. "But I ask you to trust me again, Prussia. I can change this to our advantage. Just trust me, I'll do my best."  
Prussia stood rigid for a moment longer, then sighed, forced himself to relax a little more, and wrapped his arms around Brandenburg, returning the embrace. But he wasn't nearly as loving as she was right now. He couldn't be even if his life depended on it, he knew that for a fact. "You'd better find a solution to this mess," he whispered sharply. "You could've at least told me about it and you know it. _Don't think I'll forgive you easily._ "  
"Very touching," Sweden's leader, Charles X Gustav said, and Prussia took that interruption as a chance to let go of Brandenburg again. "But, Prussia, I need you to come with us now."  
Prussia's head whipped around at that, and he stared wide-eyed at the Swedish man. Come with them? As in, go with Sweden? "What...?"  
"You're _our_ fief now," the human said, narrowing his eyes. "You're _our_ possession. You need to go where we want you to, and right now and until you have our full trust, that is with us."  
Prussia tensed, his hands clenching into tight fists. "You can't just pass me around like that whenever you damn well please!" he protested fiercely. "I'm not anyone's _possession_ , I'm a person! I'm a _country!_ "  
"You're a country _and_ my possession," Sweden said calmly, one of the first things the generally quiet empire said. "And we can pass you around like that. It's what you get when you're an unimportant little B-rank country like yourself."  
This got Prussia's blood roaring through his veins, and he tensed further, trying very hard not to attack Sweden; he knew he would never survive it if he did. Sweden was rightfully one of the strongest powers in Europe, _the_ strongest up here in the north. He was tall and strong, and could probably snap Prussia's neck before he'd even let the younger country come close. Instead, Prussia took a deep breath to calm himself, and glanced at Brandenburg. Seeing her didn't have the same calming effect it always did, but it _did_ work just enough. He swallowed the lump of rage in his throat, putting aside his pride for now. It was the last he could think of. "Please," he began, looking at both Sweden and the man's king. "You can't seperate me from Brandenburg. I don't mind being your fief, but please don't seperate us."  
Charles X Gustav sighed, annoyed, and looked Prussia in the eyes. "It will only be until you've proven your loyalty and served your purpose." Prussia could only stare at him, unblinking, as the man spoke, knowing he couldn't change his mind anymore now. "And that purpose, Prussia, is to fight for us should we need another ally in this war. Understood?"  
Prussia nodded, feeling defeated. He looked sidewards at Brandenburg, and saw her staring at him wide-eyed, her eyes telling him only one thing: _I didn't know._  
He believed her.  
She then stepped forward, reaching out to grab his hand, but Prussia pulled his back quickly. Narrowing his red eyes at her, he tried to make his message as clear as hers had been earlier. _That I believe you about this part,_ he wanted to say, _doesn't mean I believe you about the other part, too, or that I've forgiven you for being silent all this time._ Brandenburg met his gaze, let her shoulders hang and took a step back again.  
Prussia just sighed, and walked over to Sweden, not meeting the country's eyes as he gazed down at his new fief. Clenching his jaws in anger, he got down on one knee and bowed his head to the older country, a sign of loyalty, though it didn't come out very willing.  
"Just get up already," was Sweden's only, short reaction to it.  
After that, things went faster than Prussia could follow. When the meeting ended, he went in the same direction as his duke and Brandenburg out of habit. But before he could take more than a few steps, he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt and pulled into Sweden's direction by the tall country. "This way," was all Sweden said, holding on to Prussia like that until he was certain the young duchy would follow him. Prussia looked back only once, his gaze locking with Brandenburg's for just a heartbeat before she disappeared from sight. And he didn't even know when the next time they would see each other again would be.

* * *

Weeks passed, and Prussia arrived in Sweden after a month. On 24 February, another part of the Treaty of Konigsberg was signed, securing an alliance between Prussia and France during this war. Things went fast from the Treaty onward. After two months, near the end of March, all of Ducal and Royal Prussia had surrendered to the Swedish Empire. Only Danzig remained free of Swedish control, and Brandenburg couldn't do anything to get the other cities in the same situation. From March onward, her nights were more restless than ever; if only she could hear how Prussia was doing with all this, see him at least once. Things weren't made easy for him.  
Brandenburg awoke one morning to a gentle voice speaking to her. She turned around, half-asleep, and reached out with her hand, grabbing for something. That something wasn't there, though, which confused her. As the same voice spoke to her again, she decided it may be a good time to open her eyes. Probably the only reason that she couldn't find what she was looking for was because he was talking to her, telling her to wake up.  
But when she opened her blue eyes, it only left her disappointed, like every morning. Mornings were lonely now that she didn't wake up next to Prussia anymore, or to his voice telling her it was late, and that she should 'be awesome and get up already'. She glanced up, and instead of seeing him, she saw one of the servants in Konigsberg Castle leaning over her. "Miss Brandenburg," she said gently, and the teenager huffed softly. She would much rather see red eyes first thing in the morning than this grey pair. "Miss Brandenburg, our Great Elector has requested your presence."  
Brandenburg sighed and got up. "Any news from Prussia?" she asked, her very first question every single morning. It had become a habit now.  
The servant shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Do you need any help getting dressed, milady?"  
Brandenburg glanced at her closet for a moment and sighed. "No, thank you. I'm not planning on dressing into something fancy today, so it's not needed."  
The human woman blinked in surprise, but didn't react. She and Brandenburg both knew very well that the Great Elector of Brandenburg wouldn't let his country walk around in what he called 'rags', but she didn't care. She would do so as long as she could, until he let her be dragged off to her room and forced her to change.  
For now she just swung her legs out of the bed and got up, staggering over to her closet, still exhausted. She felt like she hadn't slept at all. Still, she pulled out a simple shirt and put that on, then let her eyes trail over the small collection of clothes until they fell on a pair of trousers, and she put that on as well.  
"Miss," the servant commented, sounding a bit shocked. "That is... those are Master Prussia's, aren't they?"  
"Yeah," Brandenburg just muttered, stretching and yawning. "What about it?"

Minutes later, she found herself with her leader, who was busy reading reports on how the war went. Amongst those, Brandenburg spotted a sheet of paper that looked slightly different from the rest, and she couldn't take her eyes of it. The Great Elector sighed in annoyance as he looked at his country, more importantly, how she was dressed, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he handed Brandenburg the paper she had been staring at. "We've just received a reply from the Netherlands," was all he said before he continued doing his work.  
Brandenburg took the letter from him and read it quickly.  
 _Dear Brandenburg,_

 _I've heard about Prussia's situation shortly before receiving your letter. Most unfortunate._  
 _However, I cannot aid you. I'm in an alliance with Denmark-Norway in the current war, and with that, I'm also siding with Poland. I am not planning on fighting on Prussian soil, so hopefully I can avoid adding to his suffering._  
 _I can only hope, for your sake and his, that my war against Sweden will help him in any way. If it only serves to hurt him more, you have my sincerest apologies. I cannot change sides or change tactics in my war solely to help my cousin, I'm sure you understand._  
 _There is only one thing I can do: from what I've gathered, Danzig is still under Prussia's own control. If this is true, maybe I can at least work to preserve that city's freedom. My merchants have close ties with that city, so I have no doubt my people will send troops to defend it, for their own sakes. Maybe that will help Prussia as well. Time will tell._  
 _I wish you the best of luck in finding a solution to your problems. I wish I could help you, but I honestly cannot._  
 _Please do not contact me again about this._

 _Sincerely,_  
 _Republic of the Seven United Netherlands_

"Well," Brandenburg sighed, "that led to nothing." She put the letter down again, feeling defeated. She had tried to contact Netherlands soon after the Treaty of Konigsberg, seeking help from him. Netherlands was one of the strongest countries in Europe at the moment, and he and Prussia got along very well, both on a personal scale and on a national one. She had hoped he could help, but apparently, he couldn't. Or wouldn't, at least.  
But Netherlands hadn't been her only hope. She wasn't stupid enough to set all her hopes on one possible alliance. She had more plans than this, and it was time to work on those now, as soon as she could.

* * *

In May that year, Alexis I, Tsar of Russia, declared war on Sweden. This was the first step to turning the tides of the war against the great empire, and while Prussia suffered because of it, Brandenburg was thinking hard of how to use this to her and Prussia's advantage.  
That summer, another part of the Brandenburgian plans in that war was put into action: another treaty, the Treaty of Marienburg, between Brandenburg-Prussia and Sweden, was signed on 25 June 1656. From that point onward, Brandenburg had to send Sweden military aid in the war, and in return was granted Greater Poland, nearly entirely conquered by Sweden now. Her elector was no longer a vassal to Sweden in those territories, but Ducal Prussia still remained a Swedish fief. It was only three days later that the Swedish-occupied city of Warsaw was stormed, and Brandenburg-Prussia was called to actively aid Sweden in battle.  
The Netherlands had been right in his prediction about Danzig: Dutch forces reinforced the city against the Swedes, and broke a naval blockage to the city. Now as a Swedish ally, however, this didn't quite have the effect Brandenburg had hoped for. Not yet, that is.

By October that year, Prussia felt nothing short of awful. He was still kept in Sweden, and it didn't seem like the older country was planning to let him go anytime soon. Now that Brandenburg had formed an alliance with Sweden, Charles X Gustav had decided to keep Prussia, as to remind Elector Frederick William that part of his territory, and therefore himself as well, remained in vassalage to Sweden.  
Only once every few weeks did Prussia receive any news about the current state of his land, or how Brandenburg was doing, or anything useful. He was beginning to feel like a pet to them. Maybe they thought of him that way, too.  
At least Finland was nice enough. The older country would often sit down with Prussia just to have a conversation or to play a simple game to kill time. And whenever something bad happened in Prussia's land and the young duchy was in pain because of it, Finland was often there to ask how he was doing, if he could help, to check up on him or any such things. During moments like those, however, Prussia never let anyone near him. He hated being stuck here, he hated the people he was stuck with, and most of all he hated feeling so damn weak in front of everybody. He would never show them any sign of weakness, and so he also never spoke of the stabs of pain he felt nearly all the time. He did feel bad for snapping at Finland when the man was only trying to help him, but he knew he'd feel even worse if they would think of him as weak. Sweden's words during the Treaty of Konigsberg, about Prussia being unimportant, a low-ranking country, still stung; he was awesomeness incarnated, for God's sake! No one on this whole planet was more important than him. Well, except maybe the Holy Roman Empire, Brandenburg and Hungary.

Right now, Prussia walked up to one of the servants in the castle he was forced to stay at, and grumbled his usual question: "Any news from home?"  
The human shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir. Another time, maybe."  
Of course. The usual answer.  
With a sigh, Prussia went back to his chamber, kicking against the wall in frustration as he went. With the distance it had to travel, he didn't think it weird that any useful news or reports about his land came later than he felt things happening. And honestly, usually that wasn't such a big deal to him. He was getting really good at determining what signs in his own body meant for the state of his country and people. It was just that, this time, he simply had no fucking clue.  
In complete discomfort, the duchy went back to his room, avoiding people as much as he could. Despite his efforts, though, he still stumbled across Finland on the way.  
The brown-eyed, blonde country smiled at him as he passed. "Hi there, Prussia! How are things now?"  
"Fine, thanks," Prussia muttered, voice tight. He hoped that little detail went unnoticed by Finland. He really didn't want to answer any unnecessary questions now.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Quite."  
And once again, Prussia felt bad for his cold, uninterested behaviour. But really, with the confusing pain he was in now, he wanted nothing more than to be alone and to have some time to figure out what this meant. He _had_ to know what this meant.

Once in his room, he blocked the door as usual and sat down on the edge of his bed. There, he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, careful with his aching skin underneath it. Just this simple motion caused him to wince in pain several times, though, which now made him more distressed with the second. Once his shirt was off, he inspected his body intently. He couldn't remember a time when his pale skin hadn't been criss-crossed with scars like it was now, scratches covering his abdomen, sides, chest, practically everything. He wasn't interested in those scars right now, though. What he wanted to inspect most of all, were the patches of raw, uneven skin that were leftovers from being burnt at a stake so many decades ago. The scars had become less obvious over time, but had never faded away completely.  
Now some of those were getting pink, some even red, as though they were fresh wounds all over again. The burning pain that seared his flesh day in and day out now didn't do anything to disprove that theory. His mind was reeling because of it.  
 _Battles?_ he wondered. _Those would just cause wounds, wouldn't they? Disease... no. I'd feel sick myself if many of my people were ill._ He shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts and come up with the answer that way. _Economical stuff would make me feel sick as well. Political problems would only give me a headache._ Demographic shock was the best thing he could come up with, but he hadn't lost much blood so far. A few days ago, a small cut had formed on his arm out of the blue, and it had bled enough to get him dizzy all day. But this couldn't be an effect of that, could it?  
He lay down on his back and closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain. But no matter how much he tried to think of other things, it didn't even lessen. All the time now, it felt like flames were licking at his skin, from the inside and the outside. And subconsciously, his mind went to one thing, and one thing only:

 _Brandenburg... Brandenburg, I miss you... You promised me you'd help me, Brand. You promised you'd do your best._  
 _Please... help me._

* * *

 **Whew. Second Nothern War. Lot of history to read up on... and I'm not done yet.**

 **Anyway, with Prussia being in Sweden like this, unable to do any important stuff, expect some more Brandenburg PoV before the Second Nothern War is over in this fic.  
Well, that's about all I have to say now... thanks for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 already! Time flies...**

 **Thanks to TheBlueAcid and Abc for the reviews, as always. I'm glad you enjoyed Brandenburg's moment; have some more here.  
And even more so am I glad that you hadn't figured out which event I was refering to with the refreshing of those burns. That will be explained early in this chapter ;)**

 **Then, of course, a thank you to chibihana28 for the follow!**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter, everyone!**

* * *

It was mid October 1656, and Brandenburg arrived at the castle were Sweden resided with his king and, at the moment, captured territories. It had taken a while, but three weeks before she had finally received a letter back from Sweden that she and her Great Elector were allowed to go there for a few weeks, the Elector because apparently their allies needed to discuss some things, Brandenburg because they apparently thought it was about time she and Sweden saw each other again.  
She was welcomed in by Sweden. The older, taller country was had the battered look of a country at war, and she could think of only one reason why he would be here, and not on the battlefield. She would be happy about that, had he not been her ally in this war. _For now..._  
But when Sweden went off to discuss tactics with his leader again, she was led away by Finland. She had never been fond of Sweden, for many reasons, though she couldn't deny he was a good person underneath the usual behaviour of a country of his status -the conquering, cold-blooded bastard he could sometimes look like. Finland looked nice enough from the get-go, though, and she enjoyed his presence a lot more than she did Sweden's.  
"I can imagine you wanting to talk to Prussia as soon as you can," the Fin said as he led her through hallway after hallway. He didn't wait for an answer. "I've tried to inform him of you coming here soon, but..." For a moment, worry clouded his brown eyes, and Brandenburg felt a twinge of worry herself. Was this worry for Prussia he was expressing right now? "He's taken to avoiding even me lately," Finland continued after a short silence. "And just yesterday, he locked himself up in his room completely. I don't know what's going on, but it must be bad."  
Brandenburg shivered as realisation crept into her mind. "I think I might know why he's doing it," she answered softly, eyes downcast as she followed him. "And you're right; it's _very_ bad." It was not exactly the reason she had wanted to come here and talk to Prussia, as it hadn't started yet then, but it was definitely on top of her list of things to talk to her husband about now.

Suddenly Finland halted in front of a door, and Brandenburg got nervous suddenly. Would Prussia be happy to see her? He hadn't been happy with her last time they'd seen each other. And since then, they hadn't been able to write each other. To be rejected by him now was about the last thing she wanted.  
Finland looked equally nervous, but for other reasons. He sighed as he lifted a fist. "Well," he said under his breath, half to himself. "Here goes nothing... Prussia!" he then called as he knicked on the door. "Prussia, it's me. I know you don't want to talk to anybody, but-"  
"Exactly!" came a call from inside, which made Brandenburg's heart skip a beat with mixed emotions. She had missed hearing his voice. But she didn't want to hear him quite like this: he sounded defiant and arrogant, but underneath that lay the most obvious pain and deepest fear she'd ever heard in his voice. Finland must've heard it, too, for he sighed again and mumbled something under his breath, shaking his head slowly.  
Brandenburg decided that the only chance they had at getting him to open the door, which was quite clearly barred or locked from inside, was to call to him herself. "Prussia?" she tried, softer than Finland.  
Immediately, Prussia answered again, sounding stunned more than anything now. "B-brand?" he asked, voice hoarse. "You're here?"  
There was already noise coming from inside, footsteps nearing the door. Brandenburg nodded and smiled. "Yes, of course I am, you dummy," she responded. "There's no way you'd ever be able to hear me if I were still in Konigsberg!"  
She fell silent abruptly; between the footsteps, there was a sudden grunt, a gasp and a sound as if Prussia stumbled rather than walked for a moment there. The girl took a step closer to the door, but right at that moment, it opened, revealing a paler than ever Prussia. But his eyes were shining as he saw Brandenburg, and hers lit up in a heartbeat as well. Just seeing him after nearly a year was enough to have her jump the cross the last bit of distance between them, her body filling with warmth upon touching him again as she swung her arms around him in a tight hug.  
But her heart filled with an icy cold rather than that nice, comfortable warmth, when he choked out a hoarse cry of pain the moment she touched him, and flinched away from her. Shocked, she didn't let go immediately, and Prussia pushed her away roughly, making her stumble. Wide-eyed, Brandenburg stared at him as he stumbled backward, doubled over, then collapsed onto his knees, all the while gasping for breath. She hardly noticed Finland stiffen at this behind her, nor did she hear him ask Prussia what was wrong, even though exactly the same question was racing in her head right now.  
Slowly, the teenage girl got closer to him. Once at a foot's distance, she knelt down in front of Prussia and lightly touched his arm. That seemed to be okay for him. Glassy-eyed, he stared at her, then rasped softly that he was sorry. She shook her head, answered that it was okay, and then carefully tried to hug him again, barely touching him. But even that seemed to hurt Prussia right now, as he whimpered softly when she did that. "What's the matter, Prussia?" Brandenburg asked, worried.  
He shook his head. "N-no... don't touch me... please, don't touch me..." He didn't directly answer her question, but the Prussian's reaction was still sufficient. He was _begging_ her to move away, sounding like he was on the verg of tears just being touched like that. "Brand, _please._.. please don't touch me."  
She couldn't listen to it for longer than three seconds, and she moved away quickly. Brandenburg still couldn't figure out what was going on exactly, but as she could've guessed earlier, he must have an injury somewhere, a reaction to what was going on in his land. She probably had to tell him about it as quickly as she could, but he didn't seem quite so alert anymore all of a sudden. His red eyes were glazed over with pain, and he just sat there, unmoving, with rasping breath.  
Finland stepped up then, brown eyes ablaze with confusion and worry. But he didn't seem to have come as far as Brandenburg in figuring out what caused Prussia such pain, or at least didn't think about it as he grabbed the younger country by the arm and tried to pull him up. "Come on, Prussia," he urged him on gently. "We need to have you checked. This can't be good." When Prussia didn't move, he made the mistake of trying to support him with a hand on Prussia's back. A very bad mistake indeed. Prussia flinched, practically crying now, and as Finland was pulling him up too quickly to react to this soon enough, he stumbled and collapsed the moment the Fin removed his hand from his back. He hit the ground with a dull thud, and Brandenburg's heart felt like it stopped at that moment. Prussia didn't move anymore afterwards, aside from trembling in pain and twitching a bit every few seconds, and even seemingly unconscious, he still whimpered softly.  
"My God!" Finland exclaimed almost the same moment Prussia collapsed, staring at his still figure then at his own hand. "His back feels like it's on fire!"  
Without responding, Brandenburg turned Prussia onto his back, ignoring his whimpered protests as he started unbuttoning his shirt with shaking hands. "I'm sorry for hurting you, love," she whispered to him. "But I need to know what's going on."  
She had to force herself to continue after she'd opened up his shirt halfway, and saw his pale skin glistening and damp, angry red patches addorning his chest like a badly-patched-up shirt. They covered his abdomen too, his sides, and she could see some went over to his back or down his waist to his hips as well. It was easy to recognise them as his old burn scars. But there was nothing old about them anymore now.  
"Damn you, Gosiewski," she cursed under her breath, refering to the man who was currently ravaging Ducal Prussia, burning down villages and cities as he went through the land. "Damn you to Hell!" She had lost count of the towns the Polish man had burned to the ground, and this was the end result: Prussia's burn scars had refreshed, representing all the land and all the lives lost to the fires.  
She barely noticed Finland kneeling down just beside her, inspecting Prussia as well. "Does that one look inflamed to you, too?" he asked, gingerly pointing to a burn starting on the right side of Prussia's chest and going around to his back and shoulderblades. Brandenburg nodded; it was redder than the other burns, but that was all, much to her relief. It was close to it, but not infected yet. She gently touched Prussia's cheeks and then his forehead, concluding that he was warmer than he should be, but not quite with a fever yet. Another sign that he should be treated right now, if they wanted to prevent him from getting infection anywhere.  
Worldlessly, Finland offered to take him from Brandenburg, and she let him pick Prussia up, flinching when she saw his hands pressing against several of the wounds as he tried to get a firm grip on Prussia, who grunted at this. She could imagine how much it hurt. Actually, she thought she was pretty close to knowing how it felt, as her thoughts jumped over to the blisters on her right arm for a moment. Those were burns as well, effects of Gosiewski's actions, but not nearly as bad as what Prussia went through. The roles were switched now: this time it was Brandenburg feeling some of what was happening in Ducal Prussia at the moment, just like Prussia had always been aware of what happened in Brandenburg, but hadn't been affected as much by it.

As they brought Prussia somewhere where they could tend to his burns, Brandenburg softly explained to Finland how Ducal Prussia was being ravaged right now, when the older country wondered out loud what had caused burns, of all things. The Fin gritted his teeth at hearing that, but didn't say anything. He put Prussia down somewhere, then turned around again and said he'd get some water -as cold as he could get it.  
Brandenburg sighed and sat down beside her husband, staring at him. She couldn't have expected today to be any different from this, really, what with all the land being burned to the ground. She had hoped it would be different, though. Quiet, she reached out to Prussia's face, moving some of his hair out of his face. Thankfully, his hace and neck were free of burns, or any other scars, really. His hands, too, were still completely without scars. Scars on his arm started about as high as his elbows. He was lucky, she thought, really lucky, that all his reminders of his battles were hidden from view as long as he was properly dressed. She wouldn't be bothered by it if he'd had a scar on his face like Netherlands did, for example, or Hessen, who had one close to an eye. But she could imagine very well that really anyone would be bothered by scars on their body at some point. You could never get rid of them, after all, only cover them up. They were a permanent reminder of what were usually bad memories.  
Suddenly Prussia stirred, and she held her breath. She'd thought he was unconscious -she'd hoped it, really, just so he would be spared most of the pain now. "H-how many towns have been burned...?" he rasped, eyes still closed, brows furrowed in discomfort.  
"I've lost count," Brandenburg answered, and she wished she could've instead answered 'not so much' or 'none at all'. But it was a bad, messy situation, and she couldn't lie about it.  
Prussia hummed, then opened his eyes to look at her. "At least that finally explains these," he mumbled, sounding grateful for the information. "I've been wondering about that for... for a few days now, I think...? Lost count too..." He flashed her a smile then, his eyes shining and dull at the same time. She could see he was happy at that moment, despite the constant pain. "I'm glad you're here," Prussia then said, adding a grin to it. "Makes this place that much more awesome. And it was in dire need of some awesomeness."  
Brandenburg chuckled. "You're here, aren't you? Isn't that enough awesomeness?"  
"Usually it is," Prussia answered, snickering as well for a moment. "But it's so damn unawesome in here, just having mr Awesome around isn't enough."  
"And so you needed mrs Awesome as well," Brandenburg finished for him, smiling. Just now, she could forget the awful situation they were in as well, and just be happy that she and Prussia were together again for now.  
Prussia closed his eyes again and sighed, relaxing now that Brandenburg was there and he also knew what was going on. He stayed silent for so long, Brandenburg thought he'd fallen asleep after a little while. But then, quietly as though he really was half asleep already, he mumbled one last thing: "There's no way my awesomeness would be complete without mrs Awesome, anyway..."

* * *

A few days later, though still in pain most of the time, Prussia had recovered from his injuries enough to feel comfortable going outdoors with Brandenburg, getting some fresh air again. The girl scolded him for not having gone outside much all the time. "Now if this were somewhere down south and in the middle of the summer," she said, "I would scold you for going outside in the first place, never mind not being covered up properly. But going outside here isn't bad for you in any way. In fact, you have to. _Have to._ "  
"Yeah, I know, I know," Prussia just laughed, shaking his head. He had missed Brandenburg, and that included her overprotective bitching that she could sometimes do. "I just didn't feel like it, feeling like I was on fire and all that. And besides, I don't have to cover up _all_ the time in the summer," he added, a little annoyed about that particular part of what Brand had said. "There's no harm in getting a little burned sometimes. Sunburn, I mean. Not for me, anyway."  
"Yeah, well," Brandenburg just sighed. This was a conversation they'd had more than once before, and he honestly didn't know why they were having it again. "You just have to accept that, while you're awesome of course, Prussia, when it comes to your skin you just have a bit of a poor health."  
"Do not."  
"Do so. And what about your eyes, hm? You say bright light hurts sometimes," she put in.  
Prussia scowled. "Bright light hurts _anyone's_ eyes, Brand."  
"Not as quickly as yours."  
He just huffed, looking away. He wasn't angry at her, knowing that she was only worried about him (though there was nothing to worry about if you asked him); having seen him in so much pain just days ago must've sparked an anxiety in her like she'd never felt before, and she was now overreacting about every little thing. Even things that wouldn't be an issue anymore until May the next year, when the sun got bright again.  
"I'm really glad to see you again," Brandenburg then said, and Prussia couldn't keep looking away anymore. He hadn't seen her in too long to now avoid looking at her when he wasn't even really angry. "I missed you."  
"I missed you, too," he answered, grabbing her hand and holding on to that as they walked side by side. "As I said, I didn't feel nearly as awesome without you around." He snickered. "Still awesome, of course, just less so."  
Suddenly Brandenburg let go of his hand, stepped in front of him to stop him, got onto her toes and kissed Prussia. He could feel her smile as she did that, and when she then leaned against him, face in the crook of his neck, she said softly, "I have something awesome planned for you, you know."  
He felt a comfortable warmth spreading through his chest, holding her like that, and he held her a little closer when she said that, curious what she meant.  
"I've been working on our political strategies," she continued. "Learned from the best, of course," she added, planting a quick kiss in his neck. "You're going to like what I'm working toward. Really like it."  
His heartbeat picked up. Whatever could she mean? He couldn't wrap his head around it. It was political, of course, going by what she said. A peace treaty maybe? A way out of this wretched war? That was the one thing he was hoping for with all his heart now. His people had suffered enough in a battle that wasn't really theirs to begin with. He worried about the state of both his Ducal side and his Royal side. Both were suffering in this war, he could unfortunately feel every bit of it. But then he thought about the last political actions Brandenburg had planned without him. Changing from a Polish fief to a Swedish one. Signing an alliance with Sweden and having to fight on his side in this war. He had definitely not been fond of those choices she'd made, and he tensed at the memories.  
Brandenburg noticed. "Do you trust me, Prussia?" she asked him, staring up at the taller country with wide blue eyes. "I promise you, this next thing will be a part of what I've done before, or rather the other way around, but I promise you, you'll love the outcome, if I can manage to get it as planned."  
Prussia hesitated, against his own will as that hesitation was. He was silent for a moment, mind reeling. He wanted to trust her, he really did. But he wasn't sure anymore if he did... he couldn't be sure of it until she had proven that he could fully trust her again. "I..." he choked out, then trailing off as he didn't know anymore what to say. He didn't want to lie, but when would he be lying? If he said 'yes', or if he said 'no'? He couldn't tell. He went for a compromise between the two in the end.  
"I'll try."

* * *

Prussia could finally go home again a week later. He hadn't thought the air of Konigsberg could smell so good until he breathed it in again after more than half a year. He wouldn't be so cheesy as to say 'home sweet home' when he walked back into the familiar Konigsberg Castle, but he damn well thought it. He nearly jumped in joy when his pet hawk flew his way when he saw his master return, landing on Prussia's shoulder and giving him an affectionate nip in the ear -which of course left Prussia to yelp, then bleed slowly until the cut it left healed again a few hours later. Thankfully, he'd done his bleeding for the loss of his people already, so this didn't bleed much; the day after Brandenburg had arrived at Sweden's home, when his inflamed burns were still being tended to, he started coughing up blood for minute after minute. It had tasted awful, and left him feeling even more awful yet. But now he felt perfectly fine again, aside from a little shaky, a natural reaction to the damage done to his land and people.  
Brandenburg continued planning. It wasn't until more than a year that she had announced her plans to Prussia that they became reality, but when they did, his heart made a giant leap of joy when he heard the terms discussed in a treat with the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth.

It was 6 November 1657, and Brandenburg-Prussia found themselves, as planned, in the company of Poland-Lithuania in the city of Bromberg. Nearly two months prior, they had already had another treaty in Wehlau. Just months ago, he couldn't have cared less for a treaty with Poland. Now he could barely contain his excitement, and he had a hard time just sitting still.  
"I can't believe it," he whispered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, though Brandenburg was a good alternative to talk to now. "I can't believe it! I had hoped for this for _ages,_ but..." He trailed off, and with shining red eyes, he turned to Brandenburg. "I had given up hope centuries ago, and now it's still happening!"  
"You'd better be quiet now," Brandenburg warned him, smiling warmly. "Else they might still call it off!"  
Poland-Lithuania came walking in then, looking battered from warfare but still strong, recovered from their temporary but crushing defeat against Sweden. They had retaliated like Prussia had never seen anyone do before, and he felt somewhat proud that he had been their fief for so long. Poland stared at Prussia for some time, and the Prussian could see several mixed emotions in his green eyes. Gratitude and distrust, dismay and a certain pride as well. _That's right,_ Prussia wanted to say to him. _The thing you've been trying to avoid for so long, and here you are, lured into agreeing by Brandenburg._ He would be forever grateful to her for this, he knew it.

John II Casimir of Poland was the first to speak then. "The Hohenzollerns of Brandenburg have offered their military aid to us in battle against Sweden," he spoke, "and will be returning the region of Ermland to Poland. In return for this, they will be granted Lauenburg and Butow Land as fief, receive Draheim and Elbing, and the Duchy of Prussia is to henceforth be recognised as a sovereign country, under the sole leadership of the Brandenburgian Hohenzollern dynasty."  
 _Yes!_ Prussia's heart skipped a beat at the words 'sovereign country'. This had been his goal for so long, he couldn't even remember how long it had been since he'd first tried to break free from Polish rule.  
"Do all present today agree?"  
There were only answers of agreement. And shortly after, Prussia had to control his trembling fingers to be able to sign the treaty. And with the last signature written on that gorgeous piece of paper, he felt like he could just fly away in sheer joy right then and there.  
Poland came his way immediately after they were done, dipped his head to him politely. "Congratulations, Prussia," he said. "I must say, this whole treaty feels, like, a little double for me. I mean, I did... kinda, like... raise you, you know."  
Prussia nodded. It had felt like that, being under Poland's rule and guidance for centuries.  
"Yeah..." the Polish country continued, scratching his neck nervously. "So I suppose I'm kinda proud of you being independent now." His gaze then hardened, as though he didn't want to appear to soft in front of his former fief. "So long as you keep your promise and help us, I'll be okay with this."  
Prussia nodded again. "Of course." _For as long as it suits me, nitwit._  
When Poland and Lithuania left again, Prussia allowed himself to finally let out that burst of energy he was feeling, and he actually jumped up in the air. Only once, of course. "Brandenburg, Brand, you're a _genius!_ " he cheered. "A backstabbing, treacherous _genius!_ "  
She had apparently planned it all after they had been forced to give Prussia to Sweden as a fief. Be Sweden's vassal, then betray Poland-Lithuania by helping Sweden as an ally. Show that damned commonwealth how strong she and Prussia were, the strategic value an alliance with them had, then offer help to Poland-Lithuania at a time when she knew they would do anything for military aid. And she asked a hefty price for it, which they had been totally willing to pay. And soon enough, no doubt, she was planning to betray them as well. Anything for more political advantages in this world.  
"As I said," Brandenburg answered with a shrug. "I learned from the best."  
Prussia didn't give her the chance to say anything else, instead tackling her with a hug. She fell to the gruond with a yelp, Prussia on top of her, and he held her in the most crushing hug he'd ever given her. Maybe he didn't quite owe her his life in the sense that he would've died without her, but he certainly owed his life to her.  
"I'll never forget this, Brand," he told her, rolling off her to let her breathe, but still hugging her close. "Thank you so much."  
She just leaned into the hug, completely at ease like that. "Glad to be of help. You know I'd do anything for you, right? I really love you, Prussia."  
"I love you too, Brand," he answered, one of the rare moments he said those words aloud. He almost never did that. "So much."

 _6 November 1657_

 _This was the most awesome day ever!_

* * *

 **Biggest mistake Poland ever made, this.  
For reasons you may or may not know already.  
Hah... smart Brand.**

 **25 chapters down, and he's _finally_ sovereign! (not even internationally recognised as such yet, but who cares). It was about time.**

 **Well, I hope you liked the chapter. I'm planning to wrap up the Second Nothern War in the next chapter and maybe move on to the next 'arc'. I mean, we still need to go through the 'Kingdom of Prussia' part of his history, the fall of the Holy Roman Empire, the establishment of Germany (oh God what did I get myself into) before we can head over to Hope to Die. That's a lot, considering I wasn't planning on letting Old Fritz be around for five or so chapters then move on again. Awesome Old Fritz deserves more page-time than that.**

 **But yeah, Kingdom of Prussia soon. (Prepare your hearts)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Happy Easter everyone (who celebrates Easter)!**

 **Well, a slightly shorter chapter this week, but that's no problem.**

 **A lot of research went into this one, mainly because from this point onward, I've never learned _anything_ about it in school or anywhere, and this part wasn't in Hetalia for minor reference either *sigh* It is both annoying and wonderfully fun work to do.**

 **And by the Nine Divines! *cough* I've been playing too much Oblivion and Skyrim lately *cough* All the reviews and favourites and follows I got on the previous chapter. Here goes: thanks to Abc, TheBlueAcid and josephk-02 for the reviews, rakat14, Akai-Tsubasa136, Azurekitsun1, Hopefully9000 and DragonPancakes673 for all the favourites and follows. Best week ever for my inbox XD**

 ***Edit: wow, so many typos in this one... I hope I got rid of most of them now**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

 _5 April 1660_

 _More news of awesomeness from the awesomeness that is the awesome independent Duchy of Prussia: I am now officially recognised as independent, with the Elector of Brandenburg and Duke of Prussia being the sovereign ruler of my land. Ha!_  
 _And we only had to switch sides for it twice in this godforsaken war that has just ended. I didn't like it at all: I wasn't allowed to fight after I had been able to leave Sweden because Frederick William thought I was 'too injured' to do so. Well, yeah, a country is usually only able to really participate in wars alongside his people for the first two, three years maybe, if it lasts that long. After that, the effects are just too much for them to continue in most cases._  
 _Should have sent me to the battlefield before that happened. I didn't train our awesome army not to see them handle a real situation, you know!_  
 _Oh well... Brandenburg and I had our own small celebration that we don't have to deal with Poland anymore now, so that was nice._

 _14 April 1672_

 _And yet another war..._  
 _A week ago, England, in alliance with France and Sweden and then some, like Munster, declared war on the Dutch Republic (nice action, after they had just allied themselves with Netherlands four years ago!) and we might just have to help my little cousin. Sweden hasn't planned a direct invasion on Neddy, but he has threatened me and Brandenburg if we try to intervene. Really, Sweden, awesome! Thank you for that. This makes me soooooo happy._  
 _Well, anyway, Netherlands and I get along really well, so I suppose we'll be helping him out eventually (though Sweden's threat is a real threat, mind you)._  
 _We're travelling to our border with the Republic now, where we'll meet with him. Hopefully Sweden won't declare that 'interfering' from our side._

Both Brandenburg and Prussia had expected to find a devastated Netherlands when they met with him a few weeks later, that the young Republic would be somewhat scared at the prospect of an invasion from England, France, Cologne and Munster and then some. Instead, though, he seemed to be doing perfectly fine, after reading a certain letter he had received earlier that day. He had apparently felt the need to rant about it to Brandenburg-Prussia.  
"How dare he think he can just become my ally like that?!" Netherlands yelled, glaring murderously at the letter as though it were his archenemy. Well, it was close enough, anyway. "After all the shit he's done to me in the past, now he wants to help me fight against France and England? I mean, yeah, I know he's not too fond of them himself, but that doesn't mean I want his help now!"  
"Netherlands," Brandenburg sighed beside Prussia, "please just calm down. It's not that bad, is it, to receive a promise of help from another country?"  
" _I don't need help from Spain!_ "  
"I think you do," Prussia tried to reason with him, before things could get out of hand. Though really, if he suddenly received a message from Poland or Sweden or, worse yet, _Russia_ that they wanted to help him in any war, he'd probably react the same way. "Just think, will you? England is a mighty kingdom. France is a mighty kingdom. Oh, and they're also _way bigger and stronger than you._ And you're just-" Netherlands glared at him, guessing what was coming next. "-a little Republic compared to them. I think you need all the help you can get."  
"Just a little Republic?" Netherlands echoed with hollow laughter. "That's rich, coming from a _little Duchy_ who has needed my help more than once in the past." He turned around, back turned to Brandenburg-Prussia, shoulders tense. But Prussia guessed that tension wasn't all anger. Fear was probably also contributing to it. "I know the rest of the world still doesn't believe a Republic can make it in this world," he said, voice softer now. "But they all fail to see the fact that I'm the greatest maritime power the world has ever seen! Yes, I'm just a little country, I know. But doesn't that make it all the more impressive that I've achieved so much? The greatest trading force in Europe, colonies in the New World, I had all of those things." He sighed then, still not looking at either of the two other countries. "Then why does the world still underestimate me?"  
Hearing the sadness in his voice just now, an emotion his cousin didn't often allow to be visible or audible, Prussia felt bad for him. He knew what that felt like: he knew that, with a little more work, he could be the greatest military force Europe had ever seen. He had the best combination of qualities possible when trying to achieve that: he was physically strong, he was smart and quick-thinking, and he had more skill than any country he'd ever had the pleasure of fighting directly. They could beat his army, but none of them could beat him in a personal fight. But no one believed Prussia to be a real force to be reckoned with. Netherlands experienced the same, but in a slightly different way. But _he_ had actually achieved things on a national scale as well, whereas Prussia's latest achievement was becoming _sovereign._ And that was mostly due to Brandenburg's scheming.  
The Prussian hated to admit it, but Netherlands deserved recognition more than he did right now. But instead, they were both underestimated by the entire world. _Except Brandenburg,_ Prussia thought warmly. _She knows better._  
Brandenburg wasn't so understanding. "Oh, boo-hoo," she said flatly, looking at Netherlands blankly. "Netherlands, you're facing a war, this isn't exactly the time for self pity."  
The Republic turned to look at her now, his gaze saying more than words could. Though 'just shut up, will you?' would be the most accurate description Prussia could think of.  
But then Netherlands sighed. "You're right, though," he mumbled. "Maybe I don't have a choice but to accept Spain's help. The Holy Roman Empire has already promised to aid me as well."  
"And us," Prussia put in. "Don't forget the Awesome Duo is going to help you as well."  
"And you, of course," Netherlands, acknowledged, thanking them for that. But then his blue-ish green gaze darkened again, and he looked away. Clearly the thought of fighting another war, so short after the previous ones, worried him as much as it did Prussia and Brandenburg.  
Prussia just went to stand beside him and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. You have us to help you after all! This is nothing to worry about Neddy."  
"It is," was the only response he got for a minute. After that minute, Netherlands added. "You do realise you're the only person I allow to call me Neddy?"  
Prussia grinned. "And why's that?"  
"Because I've never beaten you in armwrestling yet, that's why."  
Prussia just laughed.

* * *

Frederick William joined forces with Austrian Archduke and Holy Roman Emperor, Leopold I, to aid the Dutch in their battle against France. But by the year 1673 already, France had advanced over such a great portion of the Northern German territories that Brandenburg-Prussia was forced to pull back from the war. Prussia felt bad about that, but he had more important things to worry about: his people, Brandenburg's people, Brandenburg herself... a whole list that just went on and on.  
In the end though, they fell into war because of it, anyway. They had just about forgotten Sweden's threats, when the country decided to act on them after all. It was a war that lasted from 1675 to 1679, without any major territorial changes by the end of it. A year before that, the Dutch Republic had defeated France and England, and now continued fighting with Brandenburgian forces. That war had more territorial effects than the Brandenburgian-Swedish war, later known as the Scanian war, did.  
All in all, after that, things went relatively well. It seemed like wars just never ended in Europe, though. If they weren't part of it, some others were, but there was always something going on.

By 1688, the Elector and Duke Frederick William passed away, being succeeded by his third son, Frederick III. He was a bit more militaristic than his father had been. Whereas Frederick William had in fact sought an alliance with France and never succeeded in getting one, his son was against everything French. One of the first things he did was to join the League of Augsburg, renamed the Grand Alliance a year later when the Kingdoms of England and Scotland joined as well, a force made up of 14 states (amongst which the Holy Roman Empire, consisting of many more than that, naturally) to defeat France should such a thing ever proof necessary.  
Prussia loved it.  
This Grand Alliance, in turn, fought another great war against France, as was their reason of foundation. This was the first war Prussia was this much involved in that was fought also in parts of the world he had never imagined would be fought in over a war in Europe: Asia, the Americas, wherever the battling parties would meet, really.  
"And to think," Brandenburg said one day, scowling. "This is all Netherlands's fault!"  
Prussia did agree to some extent: the Grand Alliance had been formed on Holy Roman initiative, but on advise of the Dutch. And now it seemed like the war was as much about defeating the French king Louis XIV, who nicknamed himself the 'Sun King', as it was about the Dutch-born English and Scottish king William III of Orange getting recognised as such. "I say it's mostly France's fault, though," Prussia argued. "Expansionist bastard. So long as he knows he'll never get to the German territories!"  
"He kinda already did," Brandenburg sighed, staring up at the clouds. "Back in the Franco-Dutch war... remember?"  
Prussia scowled now, too, wanting to tell her he hadn't conquered anything in their land. Not theirs, at least. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he stared at Brandenburg in silence as she looked up at the clouds. 4 Years of war against France had passed already, and now, in 1692, it still seemed like many more were yet to come. It affected Brandenburg more than it did Prussia; he'd noticed more and more lately that his wife was starting to get quiet over it, spending most of her days pondering over things. She had avoided answering questions about if whenever Prussia asked if she was all right, what she was thinking about, if he could help.  
Now it appeared she was finally ready to talk. "I want to learn to fight," she blurted out, startling Prussia. Yet, when she turned to look at him, her blue eyes shone with a fierce determination. "Teach me, Prussia. Teach me how to fight, how to defend my people. I'm sick of sitting by and watching my people get slaughtered in war after war after war!"  
"Brand, you..." Prussia began, not sure what to say, his heart racing at the thought of his wife heading off to war. She was so frail compared to him, he nearly had a heart attack just thinking about it.  
But there was no changing the girl's mind. "You taught a whole army," she reasoned, taking a step closer to Prussia. "Surely you can train me? I don't need to fight in this war, I know how impossible that is... but I want to be ready for the next. You and I both know the next war will be waiting for us around the corner by the time this one is finished. _I want to be ready._ "  
"And I don't want you to fight!" Prussia protested, narrowing his red eyes at her, angry that she even thought about it. His muscles tensed at the idea of Brandenburg picking up a sword, but at the same time, that image filled his heart with warmth. If she _could_ fight... they would truly be inseperable and invincible. There was no seperating them through battle anymore, Brandenburg wouldn't have to stay home when Prussia went off to war. If she became as awesome a soldier as he was, no one could beat them.  
But it was a risk not worth taking.  
"Why not?!" Brandenburg yelled, getting just as angry at Prussia as he was at her. "You think I'm too weak, don't you? That's what I have you for -to train me, to help me get stronger!" She took another step closer to him, face an inch away from his as she told him angrily, "Have you ever thought about how _I_ feel in all these wars? Watching you go into battle, some of which I know you'll face other countries in, worrying all the time when that happens whether or not I'm going to see you again-!" Tears welled up in her eyes now, but she bit them back, gritting her teeth. "You're my husband, Prussia," she went on, her voice softer now, and Prussia couldn't do anything but listen, frozen on the spot. "But you know what? You're also still my little cousin, and I want to be able to protect you. I don't want you to have to defend me all the time -do you have any idea how it feels when someone declares war on _me_ , and they meet _you_ in battle? I sometimes feel like you're my guard dog, and I don't want that."  
He was silent for a moment after this. Brandenburg's guard dog? It was true that he was very protective over her since the Thirty Years' War, but surely it wasn't bad enough to be considered her guard dog? But, thinking about it, he did get cautious whenever someone he didn't know or someone he knew had bad intentions so much as approached her, he 'snapped' at everyone who threatened her and he fought her wars for her whenever it came to that. And, indeed, he had never considered her feelings about that. Not to the point that he realised that might bother her sometimes.  
While Prussia was considering all this, Brandenburg took his silence as a 'no', and after yelling at him some more, she stormed off. Prussia just watched her go. He understood her anger now, but did she understand _him,_ know how worried he was at the mere thought that she would fight in wars one day? Still, if that was what she wanted... Maybe they could give it a try. And if she failed horribly, maybe that would be enough to convince Brandenburg to put this ridiculous thought out of her head.

When he thought Brandenburg had had enough time to cool down and it was safe to follow her, Prussia went to look for his wife straight away. He found her, where else, in his personal armory in Konigsberg Castle. She held one of his rifles and aimed at a point on the wall, but Prussia immediately noticed she hadn't even prepared it to fire. He wondered if she even knew how.  
With a sigh, he shook his head and walked in. "Put that down, Brand," he told her calmly, but as he walked in behind her, she hadn't noticed him and jumped in shock, at which point Prussia sent a quick prayer of thanks up to the heavens that she couldn't shoot with the rifle she held. If there had been a bullet in it, and she had accidentally fired it at the wall just now... Prussia shivered for a moment. Ricocheting bullets were as dangerous as the direct ones could be, and he knew from his own experience that, though they healed faster than wounds inflicted by other immortals, self-inflicted wounds didn't heal quite as fast on a country as accidental or human-inflicted ones did.  
Brandenburg huffed and did her best to glare at him as Prussia walked up to her. "Hmph. Don't trust me enough to hold one of your _precious_ firearms?" But despite her anger, she didn't protest or struggle when Prussia took the weapon from her.  
"Quite the opposite," he just said. "I don't trust my firearms enough to be held by my precious wife. And besides, you were doing it wrong," he added, earning a glare but then an interested inspection from her part when he showed her how to hold a rifle, how to aim, the best, basic stance when using them in battle. "You need to be balanced, like with any weapon," he told her. "Stand firm and unyielding, yet be nimble and quick on your feet when it comes to avoiding attacks. See that?" He showed her the bayonet on his rifle for a moment. "When you're out of bullets to refill your gun after shooting, you can always use these to stab people with. When they try to do that to you, be ready to jump out of the way and retaliate. Like this." He took a stance like he was fighting, tensed his muscles first but then quickly relaxed, rolled sidewaya out of his own path, avoiding an imaginary enemy and, as he did that, proceeded to stab said enemy with the bayonet. He inspected his own position for a heartbeat before getting to his feet again. "If I were fighting someone my own height," he told Brandenburg, "that would've been his kidney on a stick just now. Most people will go for the heart, the stomach, throat or face, but there are more vital organs to pick, and they're often just as effective."  
Brandenburg took it all in with great interest, eyes shining now that she realised Prussia was willing to help her after all. "Can I try?" she asked when he was done explaining.  
Prussia looked at her, happy to see her mood had brightened up so quickly. "The rifle? Yes. The rolling? No, definitely not yet. What if you accidentally stab yourself? First things first though-" Brandenburg rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed that he wouldn't let her try that maneuver yet. He didn't care much about that, though. "-you need to change first. You're _not_ going to get fighting lessons in a dress. So go on, get out of that thing already and put something decent on."  
Brandenburg chuckled. "With pleasure." She still disliked dresses. At least Frederick III was a bit more accepting of her habit to wear Prussia's pants sometimes. A bit. But then she grinned up at Prussia, something flashing in her eyes, a look he knew well. "Are you willing to help me get out of this impossible contraption they call a dress?" she asked. "You know how long it'll take if I do it on my own... and I do want to have the time for that lesson today."  
Prussia just shook his head and snickered, but followed her up the stairs again anyway. "You're awful, you know that?"  
"Awesome, more like it."  
"That too."

* * *

The next morning, Prussia awoke at dawn, Brandenburg still sound asleep next to him. Usually he would turn around, grumble a bit about how early it was (if he got the chance to do so) and continue sleeping until noon (again, if he got the chance). Today, however, he just grinned at Brandenburg sleeping beside him. _You wanted this, you fool._ He got out of bed quietly, got dressed and then went over to stand beside Brandenburg. She looked so peaceful, sleeping there. Just perfect.  
He took a deep breath and, smirking, said in a loud voice: "THE SUN HAS RISEN, SOLDIER, TIME FOR MORNING DRILLS!"  
With a yelp of shock, the girl woke up, nearly falling out of bed. Wide-eyed, she looked up at Prussia, only half-awake and not at all comprehending what was going on.  
Prussia had the hardest time ever to stay in-character now, and keep his back straight and chin up, straight-faced as though he were adressing his soldiers. "There's no time to dawdle, get up already." Brandenburg blinked at him, trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes. He allowed himself to smile just a little. "You wanted to be a soldier? Then _be_ a soldier! Out of bed, now!"  
Brandenburg groaned and turned around, pulling the sheets up over her face. "Not _now_ , Prussia," she slurred. "I'll be a soldier in the afternoon... now's time for sleep."  
 _That's what I want, too,_ Prussia wanted to tell her, getting annoyed now. "Brandenburg, you asked me to train you, and this is part of it. You know I sleep all day when I get the chance, but I was also trained to get up before sunrise and work until after sunset -even in the summer when the nights are short."  
"What're you doin'...?" came a sleepy voice from their bedroom door, and both countries looked up to see the young Frederick William, youngest son of Frederick III and just over 3 years old, standing in the doorway, looking at his countries with sleep in his eyes.  
Brandenburg grunted. "Good, now you've woken the toddler," she complained, burying her face in her pillow. "He's yours to deal with."  
Prussia just smiled at the child. He quite liked the kid. "I'm going to train Brandenburg here to be a soldier," he told the little boy. "But she won't get out of bed."  
The little human yawned. "Can I be a soldier too?"  
Prussia smiled warmly. "Yeah, sure... when you're a little older." He walked over to him and picked the kid up, holding him in his arms. "You're too little yet, but you'll be a great soldier one day."  
"Like you?"  
"Sure, sure," Prussia answered in a cheery voice, sitting down on his side of the bed, still holding the child. He could feel the little boy growing slightly heavier on his chest as he leaned in to Prussia more, nearly falling back asleep. "A strong soldier and a mighty duke." The little boy gave a tiny, sleepy nod, then was back asleep almost immediately.  
Beside Prussia, Brandenburg looked at the scene with warmth filling her eyes. "You're surprisingly good with children, you being you," she said softly, voice a whisper to not wake up Frederick William. She yawned a bit as well, leaning against his shoulder. "You did a good job with Wurttemberg. You always take the time to play with our leaders' children..." With a sigh she closed her eyes. "You may not ever be one, but I think you'd make a good father."  
Prussia laughed silently and shook his head. "No, definitely not. It's _because_ I don't bear full responsibility for these kids that I can deal with them. If I had to raise one on my own... poor little thing."  
"It wouldn't be that bad," Brandenburg put in.  
"No, it would," Prussia just protested, laying Frederick William down on the bed beside him, the boy staying fast asleep. "Because they would get the full soldier treatment, like you now do." His gaze hardened yet remained playful as he looked at her, and when she opened her eyes, she sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get out of this one. "Now get up, _soldier._ We have training to do today."

 _2 February 1693_

 _Brandenburg is really doing a lot better than I had imagined. She's nowhere near my level, but she's become a lot stronger. Great stamina, that girl, really great. When we run laps to train, she can keep up with me now. She manages to avoid most of my attacks in hand-to-hand combat, though she has a hard time landing any real blows on me as well._  
 _She's good with a bow and rifle, swords not so much. She really has an eye for targets. I'm proud of her._

 _Meanwhile, the war against France rages onward. And though I really don't want her to fight for along time yet, by the time our new opponent arrives, they'd better be ready._

* * *

 **Sooo, Brandenburg is getting the Prussian soldier training now.  
Kingdom in Prussia will probably be established in the next chapter. We'll get to Fritz well before #30 going by my current (non-existent) planning.**

 **Also! Just a little heads-up, though it might never ever ever become a thing, but I've been in the fan animation business for a while some years back, and when I heard songs from dr Horrible's sing-along blog (awesomely awkwardly funny stuff, look it up) I got all these ideas for making a Prussia AMV series using them. Currently working on storyboards. I'll write it down in an Author's Note here sometime if I decide to make one into a real AMV/PMV.**

 **Well, thanks for reading everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	27. Chapter 27

**New chapter's ready!**

 **TheBlueAcid, Abc, TheOldKaiser, Missirikoharehn, Milk Poppies and josephk-02, thanks for the lovely reviews, favourites and follows!  
Missirikoharehn, the only reason the 'kesesese's are absent is because I don't write laughter full-out like that. It is still his laugh, of course.  
And Abc... sorry. Of course I read every review you sent, along with the notes. But the Venice thing is just... well, here's a direct quote from my history class just last week: "The Dutch Republic was a unique state in Europe, as it was the world's only republic at the time."  
Some great teaching there, as you can read. Anyway, I looked it up, and you're absolutely right. So, to make up for my historical errors, have a bonus scene!**

 _Netherlands was looking happily at the Venetian merchant ships making port in Amsterdam. He knew that there would be many great things aboard them, just ready to be bought and sold again for a higer price, like he did with almost anything he bought from other countries. No one was a better trading country than him in the entire world!  
Almost as if to prove him wrong, he suddenly saw a familar face on the deck of one of the merchant ships. Italy Veneziano spotted him as well, waved at him, got off his ship as quickly as he could, walking over to the younger trading hub.  
"Netherlands!" he greeted in his heavily accented French. "Good to see you again, bambino. It's been too long since I've seen Amsterdam." He looked around at the once-mighty city with curious golden-brown eyes. "Ve... not looking as good as the last time I was here. Fallen on hard times, Netherlands?" There was a definite hint of malice and satisfaction in his otherwise kind voice as he spoke, and Netherlands suppressed a shiver. Italy Veneziano was kind, so long as you weren't one of his rivals.  
"Yes, well," the younger country answered reluctantly. "1672 is called the Year of Disaster for a reason." Being invaded from three sides nearly at the same time. It was a cruel trick, and had permanently damaged the young republic's power and wealth in Europe.  
Italy Veneziano just smiled; he clearly didn't care about Netherlands's hardships at all. Instead, he glanced around the port of Amsterdam again before turning to look at Netherlands. "Yes, about that year, by the way," he began slowly. "I heard you called yourself the mightiest trading force of Europe? The greatest republic of this part of the world? The only one, in fact...?"  
Netherlands felt a shiver going down his spine now. Yes, there was definitely malice in Italy's voice now. "I-I did," he stammered. "And I'm sorry."  
"You're sorry? Good." Italy Veneziano smiled again now. "Because is that statement right?"  
"N-no, of course n-not."  
"No... what?"  
"No, sir," Netherlands said quickly, averting his gaze, nervous. "Of course not, sir."  
There was a chuckle, and Italy Veneziano patted him on the head then in the most mocking way Netherlands had ever experienced. Not even Prussia was this condescending in his most arrogant moments, or England for that matter. "Good boy. Now, I'll just see if there's anything left worth visiting in this awful city of yours."_

 **Well... my first-ever bonus scene!  
*Ahem* Now that we've got that down, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

The Nine Years' War against France ended in 1697, and it ended in a victory for the Grand Alliance. However, much like Brandenburg had predicted and like they had all expected, a new war threatened to envelop Europe just as soon as the new century came around the corner.  
For Brandenburg-Prussia, though, that new century brought a far greater change than this new war threatened to. However, this change was for once a good one.

"Are you serious?" Prussia exclaimed when Frederick III told him of his newest plans, in the summer of 1700. The Duke and Elector just nodded, which was enough to make Prussia have to fight to stay on his feet now, though what would happen if he gave up that fight, he wasn't too sure yet; maybe he would jump up and down in joy, maybe he would faint, he couldn't tell. But he was happier and more excited than he had been in ages.  
Beside him, Brandenburg was unusually quiet, staring at her Elector with narrowed blue eyes. Something else entirely lay in her gaze than in Prussia's, but the younger country didn't notice it in his excitement.  
"Can you believe it, Brand?" he asked her, grabbing her hands, eyes wide and shining with joy. "Can you believe it? I-I don't think _I_ believe it quite yet. This is... this is amazing!"  
Brandenburg smiled at him, and to anyone but Prussia, it was clear that it was a forced smile. But she didn't seem to want to ruin the moment for her husband. "It's wonderful news, dear," she told him gently, voice warm despite her unease in this situation. "I'm so happy for you. It would be wonderful if we could really go through with this."  
" _Kingdom of Prussia,_ " the Prussian choked out, too happy to pay attention to Brandenburg's forced happiness still. "That has been my dream since I found out I'm a country! For... for..." He quickly did the math. "For 489 years already! Nearly 500 years of waiting, working, _hoping_ -"  
"I know," Brandenburg interrupted him, sighing. "I know." She then looked up at her Elector again, eyes pleading as she finally voiced her emotions and thoughts now. "And what will _my_ place be in this kingdom?" she asked, sending a jolt of realisation through Prussia. He hadn't thought about that yet. Surely nothing would change?  
Frederick III cleared his throat for a brief moment before speaking. "You will, naturally, still be the Margraviate of Brandenburg, in Personal Union with the Kingdom of Prussia, and I and my successors will remain your Electors." Brandenburg sighed in relief at this, but a little too quickly. "However-"  
"However?" she then echoed, interrupting the man. "There's an 'however'? Who said I want to hear any 'howevers'?" She sounded slightly scared now, angry as well.  
The human looked at her for a little while longer, silent, then shook his head. "No, never mind. Since you're within the borders of the Holy Roman Empire, young lady, I cannot just elevate you to a kingdom as well, so for you, things will mostly remain as they are."  
Prussia nudged her, and Brandenburg looked up at him. He just smiled reassuringly. "See?" he told her. "Nothing will change -except that I'll be a kingdom if this works out." He couldn't suppress a shiver of delight in his voice when he said that, but managed to hide it when he continued on. "There's nothing to worry about, Brand. This is the most perfect news we've had in ages!"  
The girl looked at him for a moment, then nodded, deciding to take his word for it. "I suppose..."  
For a moment, Prussia felt a stab of worry for her, seeing her so down over something so wonderful. But his happiness far outweighed his worry, and even when he _tried_ to put his mind off this news and to Brandenburg's well being instead, he just couldn't. He really, really couldn't. He was simply far too happy. _I'm going to be a kingdom!_

* * *

Months later, they were in conversation with the Holy Roman Empire and Austria about it, and thei shared leader, Archduke and Emperor Leopold I. By now Prussia could contain his excitement well, getting more used to the idea after so many preparations had already been made. Now all they needed was consent from the Holy Roman Emperor, and then they would be set.  
But first the Emperor needed to know what he would gain from it. "What do you think you have to offer in return for kingship?" the man asked Frederick III, who didn't even blink.  
"My loyalty in the upcoming war," he answered. "Military aid from Brandenburg and Prussia, which you will clearly need."  
The Emperor blinked once at this comment, which could be viewed as an insult, but he let it slide. "And you do realise that it is impossible to create the Kingdom _of_ Prussia?" he then said, at which Prussia huffed. Holy Rome sent his little brother a warning glance to shut him up, and then let his Emperor continue speaking. "You only rule over a part of Prussia, after all; Royal Prussia still belongs to the Kingdom of Poland. And you will only be king of the current Duchy of Prussia -in Brandenburg, you will still be a margrave and Prince-Elector."  
"We are aware of the compromises to be made," Frederick III answered calmly. "However, that does not change the fact that this is our goal. And on the matter of Royal Prussia," he added, narrowing his eyes. "That is a problem we shall solve one day."  
Leopold I looked at him, and then his two countries by his side, for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. You're right that we'll need all the help we can get to keep casualties at a minimum in the upcoming war. If kingship is your price, I'm willing to pay it." He got up then, pacing a bit before coming to a halt. "The coronation won't be able to take place until next year, but that is no problem," he said, half to himself. "If we can avoid war on France until that time, and we'll have secured your loyalty that way..." He then looked at Frederick III once more, eyes narrowed, a warning clear in them. "If you give us any reason to believe that loyalty will be forgotten just as soon as you've been named King in Prussia," he then told the man, "it will have grave consequences. It will do you good to remember that." His gaze shifted to Prussia for a moment, who met it with red eyes shining with pride and defiance. If that human thought he could intimidate them, he was wrong.

A few hours later, the four countries were left with only each other, the humans having left them alone now. Holy Rome smiled up at Prussia as his younger brother walked up to him. "A kingdom, hm?" he said. "I've always known you were ambitious, Prussia, but that your ambition went this far..."  
"I've always wanted to be a kingdom," Prussia reminded him, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "You know that." Or at least, he was supposed to know that. Prussia had voiced his wishes often enough when he and Holy Rome had still gotten along well. Either Holy Rome had never paid attention to him, or he had forgotten.  
Whichever option it was, Holy Rome tried his best to hide that fact. "Right, right," he answered with a smile. "I had simply never thought your ambition would get you to this point, I mean. That you could actually achieve it."  
"Well, congratulations, Prussia," Austria then said, quickly as if to cover up for Holy Rome, whatever was going on with the Empire. "I don't know if you've deserved it, but really, congratulations. I'm pleased for you."  
Prussia narrowed his eyes at him, letting the insulting comment slide. "Thanks," he muttered, the only word he would waste on Austria today. Then he looked over Austria's shoulder at Brandenburg, who was staring at the three countries in silence. Seeing her lonely like that, he felt sorry immediately for ignoring her just now, and went over to her immediately. "We got the Emperor's consent," he said to her, smiling. "Isn't it awesome?"  
She just looked at him blankly. "Very awesome."  
Her flat answer and blank stare came like a stab to his heart, and Prussia just couldn't let it go this time. "Can't you even _try_ to be happy?" he asked her, voice soft, trying not to let Austria and Holy Rome hear. "I don't know what's going on with you, Brand, but considering this might be one of the best things that has ever happened to me, you being so... so _down_ about it is very unawesome." She just huffed softly and didn't answer, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What's the matter, really? Why can't you just try to be happy for me, for _once_? What, are you jealous or something?"  
" _Jealous?_ " she echoed angrily. "Of what, you becoming a kingdom? Not in a million years!" She rounded up on him now, glaring. "But while you're happy and countring off the days, do you even think about what consequences this might have for me? Because _I_ am, I'm trying to figure it out every single day! But I don't know, Prussia, and I'm scared." A shiver made its way into her voice as she said that, and more softly, she added, "I'm so proud of you, Prussia, I couldn't put it to words. I _am_ happy for you, really. But I also want to know what's going to happen to me when you become a kingdom and we're not equal anymore in our Personal Union, and I just..." She trailed off, averting her gaze.  
Prussia was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and put his arms around her, pulling her close. "It's going to be fine," he told her in a whisper. "You know it is; Frederick said so, didn't he? He said so the day he told us about his plans -you'll still be the Margraviate of Brandenburg, he'll still be your Elector... nothing will change about that."  
"He then said _however,_ " she reminded him, hiding her face against his chest for a moment. "I don't like that, Prussia, not at all. And he never told me what it means... It's been haunting me for months."  
"You said you didn't want to know," he told her, recalling her words that day.  
But Brandenburg shook her head. "That I didn't want to know, doesn't mean I _didn't want to know,_ if that makes sense," she mumbled, sighing afterward. "I knew I wasn't going to be happy about it, but I do want to know what he meant. Yet, at the same time, I don't."  
Prussia ran his fingers through her brown hair for a moment, gave her a quick kiss, then let go of her again. "It'll be fine, you'll see."  
When he let go of her and saw Austria and Holy Rome stare at them, his heart skipped a beat and he felt heat rising to his cheeks. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being seen around Brandenburg quite like this, but it was still awkward when people saw them hug, more so when they saw them kiss, and the worst... Well, let's just say they'd learned to lock doors at night just a few years ago. And the little Frederick William had seen more than his young eyes should be allowed to. Most unfortunately. After that, Prussia and Brandenburg hadn't spoken to each other all day afterward, and avoided the young child for a week.  
At least this wasn't too bad -both Holy Rome and Austria had seen them like this enough times to make it _less_ awkward at least.  
To get his mind off things, not have to think about this or Brandenburg's worries for a moment, he told his older brother happilly, "Oh, did you know, Holy Rome? A scholar from Konigsberg University has finally been able to tell me what I am!"  
Confused by his words, Holy Rome furrowed his brows, and Austria too looked curious now.  
Prussia just smiled -when he'd heard this, he'd been almost as happy as when he'd heard he would be a kingdom. Finally one of the greatest mysteries of his life had been solved. "Apparently I'm an albino! That's what they now call people with white skin and white hair like mine -they don't all have red eyes, though, but some do."  
"That's great, Prussia," Holy Rome just said, smiling, happy for his little brother. "It must feel good to finally have a name for it, hm?"  
Austria flashed him a brief smile as well, but then asked, "And what does it mean, this... albino thing? Is it a disease?"  
" _No,_ " Prussia muttered in response, his good mood fading with ever second he was forced to look at Austria and talk to him now. "At least I don't think so. That man has read research notes from someone who's been studying people with albinism in Africa, and it seems to be a disease for them, but that's because they get a sunburn so easily, like me. That's the reason for it -the same reason my skin is so pale, is also why I get burnt more easily than others." Less enthusiastic now, he added, "Others like me also generally have very bad eyesight. Luckily, that's only true for me when the sun's really, _really_ bright. That tends to hurt a bit sometimes, but... Well, yeah."  
"Sounds like a disease to me," Austria just commented, a flash of worry in his dark blue eyes.  
"Again, _no._ A disease is contracted. Albinism is something you're born with-"  
"-and die with."  
"But not _because_ of it," Prussia protested, rolling his eyes now. "At least... I don't think so." Well, this turned out to be the wrong topic. He didn't want to be told he was sick -that was almost as bad as being told he was cursed! He sighed, then looked at Brandenburg, who looked like she felt left out again. "Also, also!" he then said in a cheerful voice, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her close again. "Brand has been training really hard for nearly a decade now to be able to fight well -she's amazing!" Proudly, Prussia told them about the progress she'd made, that she could outrun him, avoid every attack he sent her way, and shoot birds from the sky -if Prussia wasn't around, that is. He hated it when she attempted to shoot birds, even if it was for dinner. "Only hand-to-hand combat and swordfighting still need work, don't they, Brand? You're awesome in all the rest."  
Brandenburg smiled at him, realising of course that he was making an effort of letting her be noticed as well, and grateful for it. "I don't think I'll ever beat you in those things," she answered, giving him a playful shove. "But it's about time you hand those bows and rifles to me! Recognise your superior, Prussia, and have some respect for her."  
Holy Rome's eyes lit up at this, and Austria turned his attention to the girl now, too. "Hungary has a hunting bow here that you can use, I suppose," he told her. "You can show us, if you'd like."  
Brandenburg smiled and nodded, happy to not be left out anymore. Prussia watched her go as Austria took her away to the courtyard and got the bow for her. Warmth filled his ribcage at this, but underneath that was also a certain cold. She seemed so easily forgotten now that he was the one becoming a kingdom. He liked attention a lot, that wasn't the issue. But he didn't want to be the centre of attention if it meant Brandenburg would be left in the shadows.  
"You'll have to look out for her," Holy Rome said behing Prussia, startling him. He hadn't realised Holy Rome had walked up to him like that. When Prussia turned to look at him, he was staring at the door through which Austria and Brandenburg had just left, icy blue eyes shimmering with worry. "She might not say it, but once you become a kingdom, Prussia, she'll need you to defend her more than ever." He then turned his gaze to Prussia instead, looking at him. "Promise me you'll do that, Prussia. Keep her safe."  
Those words made all the warmth fade from Prussia's body, and he wondered what Holy Rome meant. Was this somehow related to the 'however' Frederick had spoken when telling them nothing would change for Brandenburg when Prussia became a kingdom? What did Holy Rome know that they didn't? "You don't need to ask that," he just answered determinedly. "So long as she has the Awesome Me to look out for her, she'll be safe. I'll always protect her."

* * *

The last, cold months of 1700 passed and made way for the new year. Just over two weeks into the year 1701, on 17 January, the to-be Kingdom got a new flag. The black eagle that had been Prussia's symbol after the black cross of the Teutonic Order, with a Latin motto on it: _suum cuique,_ 'to each his own'. On that same day, the Royal Order of the Black Eagle was established, a State Order of knights. That Order received a seperate symbol: a cross, once again. It was a golden Maltese cross with dark blue, and four black eagles between the arms of the cross, each wearing a golden crown.  
Prussia smiled when he saw this, mildly amused but most of all plain happy. A cross similar to this one had been his symbol as the Teutonic State. After that, he'd always worn a little crucifix. Now this one. _Will there ever be a day when I do not wear a cross on my heart anymore?_ At this rate, he doubted it.  
But all the things that happened on the 17th fell into the shadows of the next day, easily forgotten later.

On 18 January 1701, Frederick III crowned himself and his wife King and Queen in Prussia. In his sheer joy and excitement, Prussia could easily forget that the ceremony, to a certain extent, was merely for show: barely anyone had recognised him as a kingdom yet, so he could hardly call himself the Kingdom of Prussia yet. As the Holy Roman Emperor had mentioned, part of Prussia still belonged to Poland, and since Poland was a kingdom, _they_ were the rightful 'Kings of Prussia'. But this was nearly as good, and even if he wasn't officially one quite yet, part of Prussia was now a kingdom.  
It was the day on which one of his greatest dreams in his centuries-long life had become reality.

Prussia watched the coronation with pride and a rapidly beating heart, Brandenburg by his side. After a little while, she leaned in a little closer to him, their arms almost touching, and he felt her fingers brush against his. Absent-mindedly, he grabbed her hand gently and twined his fingers with hers.  
"It won't be long now," Brandenburg whispered then. "Soon, you'll be officially and internationally recognised as a kingdom, Prussia. Just like your full independence, it might take some time until the world recognises it, but they will turn around someday." The girl glanced at Poland and Lithuania, who stood a little further off with Saxony. "Even them."  
Poland's king was the king of Saxony as well, and had therefore accepted the Kingdom of Prussia. Poland wasn't so pleased with it, though, and neither was Lithuania and their people. Prussia was only independent from them so long as the Hohenzollern family ruled over him. If that bloodline ever became extinct, he would be transferred back to Poland. But Prussia would never let it get that far, and Poland probably knew it. The older country must have realised his mistake by now, granting Prussia his independence decades ago. He would never get him back now.  
" _We_ are a kingdom now," Prussia answered to Brandenburg softly. "Don't forget, we're mr and mrs Awesome. I know we're seperate countries officially, but we've done everything together over the ages, and this is among it." He looked at her sideways and smiled, his red eyes shining. "We're a single kingdom together. Someday, we'll be the Kingdom of Brandenburg-Prussia, you'll see."  
Brandenburg smiled as well then, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I'll take your word on that, then."

The coronation ended soon after, and Prussia was called up to the newly-named King Frederick I. The human looked down at his country, eyes shining with pride. Prussia knew what was to come now, and his heart nearly gave out when his king spoke.  
"Kingdom of Prussia," Frederick I began, "I, Frederick of Hohenzollern, Elector of Brandenburg and King in Prussia, hereby name you Knight of the Royal Order of the Black Eagle. May you serve your people and the royal family of Hohenzollern as an advisor and a protector for centuries to come."  
Prussia bowed his head and got on one knee before his new king, first feeling the blade of the man's sword lightly touch his shoulder, then an amulet being hung from his neck. The cross of the Order of the Black Eagle. He waited a few seconds before getting up again, then looked up at the human and, with his right hand crossing his heart, promised his undying loyalty to his people. It was something he had done ages ago, and to say these words aloud now felt completely natural. As did the knowledge that he was once again a true knight; it felt like he had always been, like he had never stopped being one.  
What came next was slightly more unexpected to him. Brandenburg was called to stand beside Prussia, and the king then repeated his earlier words for her as well. Prussia knew that Brandenburg would be a Knight of the Order as well, but he hadn't thought she would be given a public ceremony like this. She was, after all, a woman. She might actually be the only female knight in Europe, Prussia then realised. Until he reminded himself of Hungary; she had fought alongside her people for centuries, for longer than Prussia had even lived. He didn't know if that made her a knight, but she had probably gained that status somewhere along the way.  
That didn't make Prussia any less proud when he looked at Brandenburg, listened to her as she swore her loyalty as well, chin lifted proudly and blue eyes shining bright. Even though he knew people were watching, and it was therefore a rather indecent thing to do, he leaned down a kissed Brandenburg quickly when she was finished before stepping away. The king looked down at them for a moment, but didn't even look angry that his countries had momentarily broken the serious atmosphere like that. Prussia and Brandenburg took their places on either side of the new king and queen, overlooking the people gathered there for the coronation ceremony. All the humans bowed down for their new monarch and the two young knights. The only ones left standing straight were the other countries, the King of Saxony and Poland and the Holy Roman Emperor. Prussia looked at his older brother, standing beside his emperor, with a proud red gaze.  
 _See that, Holy Rome?_ he wanted to say. _I told you I would achieve greatness!_

* * *

 **And the War of Spanish Succession is next!**

 **I know I've said this once or twice before, but about the next chapter... prepare your heart.  
I'm sorry.**

 **And on that bombshell...! Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it~!**


	28. Chapter 28

**So, I... I'm sorry about this chapter.**

 **Zeawesomepasta, thanks for the favourite and follow! TheBlueAcid and Abc, thanks for the reviews! And, Abc, don't worry, I didn't think you were rude at all! You should see me with things I can get passionate about. Like subtitles/translations in general. "You stupid ***! Where did you study English, you imbecile? 'Eagle' is _not_ translated as 'havik' (hawk)!" (funny enough, it's usually animals and numbers which they get wrong)  
...stuff like that XD So this was nothing, really.**

 **Now for this one, as I said, I am sincerely sorry...**

* * *

 _14 July 1703_

 _Another day on the battlefield. The war about who should succeed the Spanish throne has lasted pretty long now. I still have to get used to fighting alongside Austria instead of against him. But you know what? Here on the battlefield, I'm considered one of Holy Rome's troops. I have mixed feelings about that one; sure, I always wanted to be acknowledged as a member of the family, since I've always been the odd one out here, but I'm so awesome, I should just be my own entity in this war, don't you think?_  
 _That's because Brandenburg is part of the Empire; the others are constantly talking about having 'Prussia' on their side, that 'Prussia' has proved to be a valuable ally. That's right, give me praise, all of you! But do not forget about my awesome wife, who has taken out more enemies in this war than I can count. Brandenburg is usually not on the frontline itself, but she's an amazing shot, so we keep her somewhere hidden for as long as we can so that, from that point, she can shoot enemy soldiers. Why do the others forget about her being here as well? As much as I enjoy the praise and recognition, Brandenburg isn't me, she's her own person and her own country!_  
 _We're still Brandenburg-Prussia, after all._

 _And about that -today I don't want to worry about war. Because today is mine and Brand's 80-year-anniversary of our Personal Union. Worth a party, I suppose. An_ _awesome_ _party!_

"I can't believe it's been 80 years," Brandenburg mumbled, half to herself, as she and Prussia sat outside that afternoon. With how peaceful their surroundings now were, it was hard to imagine that they were sitting on the banks of the Rhine river, and just days ago they had fought in this area. This part of the riverbank had been left untouched, which is why they had decided to go here. With the soft grass, the strong sunlight and the shadows cast on the ground, they could almost believe the war had ended for a day just so they could enjoy themselves for once.  
"It'll be even more unbelievable 20 years from now," Prussia chuckled. "Married for a century... I wonder how many people can say that, even if they're countries?"  
"Poland and Lithuania, I suppose," the girl answered, letting herself flop onto the cool grass on her back and sighing deeply. "Or... they're close enough to marriage anyway."  
With a warm smile, Prussia looked down at her. "I didn't say we were the only ones," he told her, sticking his tongue out at her playfully for a moment. "Silly. But there aren't many Personal Unions that have lasted this long for sure."  
Brandenburg only hummed, and Prussia kept staring at her for a little while longer as he listened to the soft rustling of leaves, the river lapping at the riverbank and the rocks that lay in it. This was truly the best way to spend today. Never mind the awesome party he had described in his journal that morning, just being alone with Brandenburg was a lot better. And besides, they'd spent time with their family that morning already. Netherlands and Austria had both been there to congratulate them first thing in the morning, Hanover and Holy Rome came in a little later after patrolling. The two other allies of the Grand Alliance that were here now, Scotland and England, had even remembered. Scotland, whom Prussia had figured out had a rather sociable personality and seemed to have taken a liking to the two younger countries during their time together in the Grand Alliance, had ruffled Prussia's white hair the moment he saw him, with the biggest smirk ever on his face. To Brandenburg he had been more gentlemanly; a mere dip of his head and a soft congratulations as well. Though still smirking. England had just looked at them for a moment, which was special in its own right, because he had a tendency to ignore the two countries altogether. Prussia just sent a prayer of thanks to the heavens after that, that their two other allies, the Duchy of Savoy and the Kingdom of Portugal, weren't there as well.  
So yeah, after having gone through that before noon, they were both happy to be alone now, just the two of them.

Looking at Brandenburg warmed his heart. She had really matured since they'd married 80 years ago. They both had. Prussia was estimated to be in his late teens now, 16 or 17 years old, and some people were already refering to Brandenburg as a young woman rather than a girl. She looked a lot better now that she had trained for battle and gotten stronger -healthier most of all, though she was looking a bit pale since the war had started.  
All that training together with the army as well as with Brand had given Prussia a pretty solid build by now. He looked as strong as any soldier, more so than some, though he was still shorter than most.  
Suddenly Brandenburg cracked open one bright blue eye, and she smirked a few seconds later. "Time for you to retreat further into the shadows, Prussia," she told him softly.  
He looked away for a moment, staring at the white skin on his hands and arms. It wasn't exactly white anymore. "I suppose you're right," he mumbled with a sigh, though his smile hadn't left his face quite yet. "I don't want to go into battle looking like a lobster, now do I?"  
Brandenburg had already gotten to her feet and was dragging him along with her. "My little albino cousin," she joked. "I really have to take care of you all the time, don't I?"  
Prussia laughed. "If you want to. I think I can manage myself pretty well, but all right."  
Once they were deeper into the trees, Brandenburg suddenly pushed Prussia with his back against a tree and kissed him. Prussia just went along, wrapping his arms around her. As he let his hands slide down her back slightly, he thought it was weird to imagine that they had really been married for longer than most humans lived. Yet at the same time, he thought it was even weirder that there had been a time when he had hated the idea of having to marry Brandenburg. And though it was still two decades away, the 100-year mark seemed closer than ever for just a moment, and he was looking forward to it already.

* * *

Little more than a year later, the two countries and their allies faced another battle. They were near Blindheim, in Bavaria, and were going to fight said country and France there.  
Leading the battle were England and one of his people, the Duke of Malborough, and Savoy with his prince.  
Prussia stood beside Austria, much to his dismay, but having Brandenburg on his other side made it right againt. Hesse was a little way behind them, telling Holy Rome to stay put. The empire hadn't fought in a battle for as long as the war had lasted, and looking at how frail and sickly he looked, Prussia didn't want him to.  
England was quietly discussing something with his older brother, then turned away and got onto his horse. He rode to halt in front of the assembly of nations, and looked at each of them. "Savoy and I have made plans, and they are as follows: Prince Eugene and Savoy's troops will take the west side of the battlefield and face of with Bavaria, mine will go to the east and fight France. Scotland, naturally, is with me. Hesse, Netherlands, you're coming with me as well. Austria, Prussia and Brandenburg, you shall join Savoy in the west."  
Brandenburg and Austria exchanged a glance at this, which Prussia caught. They both seemed unhappy having to fight Bavaria, whom they were both close to. Brandenburg hadn't gotten along well with her little sister for almost as long as she and Prussia had been married, but she still cared for the younger girl. Austria was most likely thinking of the previous incarnation of Bavaria now, who had been his older sister. Prussia had heard many stories of Austria being raised by that girl as much as he had been by Holy Rome and Germania. That close bond between the Austrian and Bavaria had lived on longer than the country's incarnation herself had.  
But Bavaria was their enemy in this battle, and they both realised that very well, Prussia knew. He didn't have to worry about either of them holding back.  
Prussia watched as England gave a brisk nod to Savoy, who had joined the English and German forces mere hours ago, then rode away, followed by his brother, Hesse and the Dutch Republic. Prussia turned to look at Holy Rome for a moment, who just nodded to him and smiled. "I'll stay here," he told his younger brother. "Don't worry. I'll be waiting for you right here."  
"I hope you'll keep your word on that one," Prussia answered with a smirk. "You'd better prepare lunch for everyone, too; we'll be back by noon, I promise." Prussia was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to keep that promise, but he kept smirking nonetheless. The albino kingdom then turned to Brandenburg. "You'll be careful out there?"  
"If you will," she answered with a confident smile.  
Then the countries joined their armies and rode into battle.

The Bavarians clearly hadn't expected an attack first thing in the morning, which left the Grand Alliance with the much-needed element of surprise. The French and Bavarian troops seemed to consist of many more men than the combined army of the Grand Alliance. For a moment, Prussia worried about this. But the moment he felt the impact of his blade on a man's armour, he forgot any worries and focused on the battle instead. Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he fought. From the corners of his eyes, he caught glimpses of Brandenburg, in specially crafted armour and with one of the few guns their army had in her hands. Seeing her like that filled Prussia with more determination to win this battle than ever before, and he felt like he had never fought harder.  
Still, as the hours passed, the battle raged on, and Prussia grew exhausted. Before noon, he had already retreated once to hide somewhere, so that he could rest and regain some energy before plunging into battle again. "At least I know for sure," he choked out to himself as he sat somewhere to catch his breath. "I'll sleep like a goddamn baby tonight. An awesome, victorious baby. By God..." He tried to get up, but his tired legs wouldn't hold him, and he flopped back down immediately. So he decided to stay there a little longer.  
Eventually, he came out of his hiding place just enough to be able to inspect the battle from a safe distance. He couldn't tell whether things were going well or not; there were bodies everywhere, and sometimes it was even hard to tell which of those were still alive, and which weren't. The country flinched at the sound of gunshots, and he quickly hid again, pulse racing. Guns were amazing inventions for warfare, but the deafening sound they made could still scare him right out of his skin. This wasn't what he was used to. For centuries, he had listened to the clang of metal on metal, the air being pierced by soaring arrows, the voices of men. These guns were just too loud. Wars were so much louder now than before. Everything about war was different from before.  
He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and got to his feet again, sword in hand. His people were suffering out there. He had to fight by their side until the very end, even if the battle would last until dawn the next day.

* * *

As he fought once again, Prussia kept an eye out for Brandenburg. She appeared to have left the battlefield for a little while as well, for he couldn't find her no matter how often he looked. After what seemed like an eternity, he spotted her again; she had switched to swordfighting now, her gun tied to her back. Though he wasn't happy about his wife getting that much closer to the real danger of battles, Prussia understood. If she even had bullets left, there didn't seem to be any place left for her to fight from a distance like that. Though she seemed to be handling herself well in combat, Prussia wanted nothing more than to go over to her and fight on her side now. But everytime he tried, he would be attacked again, and eventually he had lost sight of Brandenburg again.  
After a while, Prussia noticed that his troops were beginning to fall back. The Bavarians and French were driving them back over the Nebel, the river they'd had to cross to get here. The Prussian could feel in his limbs that he had lost many people here already. He felt weak and tired, in a completely different way from his general exhaustion after fighting for so long.  
It seemed like an eternity before the battle ceased. Prussia's troops had been driven back far by the Bavarians, but they weren't defeated yet. The country felt both devastated and proud as he looked at the men he had left. Some of them were panicking, but Prussia's Prince and the Duke of Savoy seemed to be doing a good job at restoring their faith again.  
Savoy came up to Prussia after a few minutes. "You look dead on your feet," the duchy commented as he inspected his comrade, grimacing. "Is it just the exhaustion, or the people you've lost?"  
Prussia closed his eyes for a moment, and the world seemed to sway under his feet as he did that. But he couldn't determine what caused him to feel so bad right now. With a sigh, he looked at Savoy. "Can't tell."  
The duchy looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Well, be sure to get some rest now that you still can. We'll launch a second attack soon."  
Prussia nodded feebly, trying to find a way not to feel so dizzy and unbalanced. Before he gave Savoy a chance to leave, he looked up at the other country again. "How's Brand doing?"  
Something flashed in Savoy's eyes then, and with anxiety slipping into his voice, he answered: "I haven't seen her here yet, to be honest. I assumed she was with you. That's usually where one can find her." When he saw the startled look Prussia gave him, he smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, Prussia. There are hundreds of men here, after all."  
"And one woman," Prussia protested, his heart beating painfully. "She would be easy to spot among all these men." Without saying anything more, Prussia went to the first horse he could find and jumped onto it quickly, then rode it back to what had been a battlefield just minutes ago.

By the time he reached the edge of the field of corpses scattered across the plains, he started calling out for Brandenburg. He didn't care if there were Bavarians around still, he just had to find Brandenburg. And if she wasn't anywhere here, then he knew she was back with their troops, safe and sound.  
"Brand!" he called at the top of his voice. "Brand!"  
His heart skipped a beat when, eventually, a familiar voice answered. "I-I'm here...!" Brandenburg sounded as if she was in pain, her voice hoarse.  
Prussia immediately jumped off his horse and ran over to her; Brandenburg had propped herself up against a rock, hands clenched tightly around the left side of her waist. Blood was seeping through her fingers.  
Prussia crashed onto his knees beside her, and hugged her the moment he could. She trembled lightly in his arms, and didn't hug him back. Instead, she kept her hands on her waist, exactly where they had been when Prussia first saw her there. The albino let go of her again and gently pulled her hands away so that he could inspect the wound. A deep cut in her side, left by a bullet by the looks of it.  
"I'm sorry..." Brandenburg choked out.  
Prussia interrupted her. "No matter," he said in a rushed voice. "That'll heal. I-I understand it hurts, but it'll heal."  
"Prussia-"  
"All right? You'll be just fine in a few minutes, and then I'll take you back to where the others are," he told her, ignoring her feeble protests. "You won't have to participate in the second attack like this, don't worry. Holy Rome can look after you while I'm away." He kept on saying things like that, not even keeping track of his words himself anymore, until Brandenburg raised her voice a little.  
"I didn't realise..." she choked out, shifting to sit in a more comfortable position. When she spoke again, her voice was softer again, and her words sent ice into Prussia's veins. "I didn't realise it was Bavaria..." At these words, Prussia's heart seemed to stop, and he felt frozen where he sat as Brandenburg explained what had happened softly. "I shot Bavaria in the leg," the injured country said. "I didn't realise it was her... She fell and shot back at me without even looking. S-she got away then... I hope she's all right..."  
As Prussia listened, his mind was blank. His brain couldn't process Brandenburg's words until a few seconds after they had been spoken. Everything revolving around his thoughts seemed to go in slowmotion now. He looked back down at Brandenburg's wound, and swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat, choking him. "You'll be okay, Brand," he said. "Really. We'll just have to stop the bleeding now, and you'll be fine." But as he spoke, his mind told him that her clothes were soaked with thick red liquid, and the same substance had already formed a pool around her where she sat.  
She was slowly bleeding out right under his nose.  
Feeling numb for a moment, the Prussian wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her onto his lap, letting her lean against his shoulder. Brandenburg relaxed like that, her lips twisting into a smile. Her lips, which were already growing pale with bloodloss. "I'm so sorry that I broke my promise," she whispered to him, and he just hushed her and held her closer for a moment, kissing her head gently, telling her it was okay. She couldn't have done anything about it. It had just... happened.  
She looked up at him with dull eyes, but somewhere in their blue depths, warmth and love still shone brightly. "I have kept another promise I made, though," she breathed, her voice more strained than before already. "But even though I know we promised 'till death do us part', Prussia... would you... would you mind if I... stick around a little longer than that?"  
His throat and eyes burning with held-back tears, Prussia shook his head. "No," he choked out. "No, of course not. P-please do." He sniveled for a moment and gritted his teeth. "Don't leave me... please don't..."  
"I won't," Brandenburg answered softly, determination in her voice as she spoke. "I'll be there when you need me... I'll never leave you." She leaned in closer to him weakly and kissed his cheek. "I promise."  
She then fell back into his arms, and though Prussia could feel life in her body yet, he knew there wasn't much time left. Panicking as he realised this, he started to blurt out everything he still wanted to say to her. "Thank you so much for everything Brand," he said to her, nearly choking on the words and the many emotions behind them. "I don't know where I would be now without you. I owe so much to you, Brand, thank you so much."  
She just smiled as he spoke. When he fell silent just long enough for her to talk, she whispered in a barely audible voice, "I love you, Prussia."  
"I love you too," he answered rapidly, hugging her closer. "I love you so much, Brand. You're by far the best thing in my life. The most important person in the world to me. I love you, I always will."  
Somewhere during the time he'd spoken, he'd heard her breaths fade into silence, and she lay heavily against his chest, unmoving. And when Prussia realised that Brandenburg, his dear, sweet Brandenburg was dead, his stomach twisted and unbearable agony exploded in his chest, as though his heart was ripped from his body.  
And then he felt nothing anymore. All the pain he had felt in that moment, all the exhaustion in his tired limbs, all the emotions reeling in his mind and heart. They were gone just as quickly as they had come. And then he just sat there, in silence, his mind blank and his body completely numb, as he held Brandenburg's motionless body in his arms.

Some time later, he couldn't tell how long he'd sat there with Brandenburg, he heard noises in the distance. Absent-mindedly he turned to look over his shoulder, and saw his troops marching this way again, ready for the second attack. Without thinking, he picked Brandenburg's body up and carried her away to some place safe, somewhere he could find her again later without having to worry about anyone even coming near her now. His chest felt empty as he laid her down, as if his own heart wasn't just as still as Brandenburg's now was, but gone altogether.  
He looked at her for a moment, silent, then knelt down beside her and kissed her cheek, which was already growing cold. "I'll be back, love," he whispered to her. "I have to go now, but I'll be back." Then he stood up, and gazed at the army marching over the plains for their second attack. That was his army to command -his alone now- and he had to fight alongside them. He had to protect his people, and he had to fight for them... for Brandenburg.  
Feeling numb but his legs steady, he walked over to join his men, with only a single thought on his mind now: _I have a duty to fulfill._

* * *

Evening had fallen in the area around Blindheim, and battle had finally ceased in this part of the area. But neither Prussia nor Brandenburg had returned along with their troops, and the humans leading this campaign had sent out a search party for them. It was the one thing the Holy Roman Empire had been able to join his family in, and he rode a horse beside Austria now as they scanned the battlefield for their allies.  
"Maybe they got themselves captured," Austria mumbled, half to himself, as they looked around for any sign of the two countries. "Especially for Prussia, that wouldn't be the first time."  
"They're fine as long as they're together," Holy Rome replied. "That's the one thing we know for certain." He then spotted something white a little further off, and he nudged Austria. "You think that's him?"  
The Austrian squinted, then shrugged. "Could be. It's worth the try, anyway." He then turned his horse around in that direction, followed closesly by Holy Rome. "It's him," Austria confirmed when they got closer. But then, suddenly, he brought his horse to a halt, sitting rigid on the animal's back. Curious, Holy Rome rode up beside him.  
"What's the matter?" he asked softly, looking at the other country. But Austria didn't respond, just slowly shook his head, mouthing 'no' as he stared at Prussia with a horrified gaze. Stomach twisting with dread already, Holy Rome turned and followed his gaze. His heart seemed to stop briefly at what he saw.  
Prussia sat on the ground, Brandenburg laying on his lap, and the albino kingdom softly stroked her cheek as his lips moved, apparently whispering things to her too soft for Holy Rome to hear from this distance. Brandenburg's skin was paler than Prussia's, her once pink lips white now, with a sickly blue hue to them, her eyes only half closed and staring at the sky without seeing.  
Anyone could see within a heartbeat that she was dead, and had been for some time now.  
"How did this...?" Holy Rome choked out, in shock for a moment.  
Austria seemed to have gotten over most of his initial shock now, though, and carefully got off his horse. Holy Rome watched as his archduchy tentatively approached Prussia, called his cousin's name softly. Prussia didn't react. The Austrian then carefully reached out to Prussia and placed his hand on his shoulder. He still didn't even look up. Taking a deep breath, Austria said softly: "Hey, Prussia..." Then he seemed lost for words already, and he was silent for a moment before continuing. "We need to go back, all right? We-" He paused for a moment and gently grabbed Prussia's hand, stopping his continuous stroking of Brandenburg's cheek, and pulled his hand away carefully. "We'll take her with us, I promise. But we really need to go back now. You can't stay here all night, Prussia." He looked over his shoulder at Holy Rome for a moment, and the empire nodded with a heavy heart.  
Holy Rome got closer now, too, careful as to not startle Prussia, or... anything, really. His little brother seemed to be in complete shock, hardly responding to anything. As gently as possible, Holy Rome took Brandenburg's body from Prussia's lap and lifted her. She was so light in his arms, he hardly noticed he was carrying her.  
At this, Prussia looked up, staring at Holy Rome with an intense red gaze that made the empire flinch. He couldn't bear to see all that pain, all that misery in his little brother's eyes. So he turned away. Instead he looked at Austria, who still had one hand on Prussia's shoulder, and held his cousin's hand with the other. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Holy Rome said softly, "Can you take him with you on your horse, please?" Suppressing a shudder, he added, "I'll take Brandenburg."  
Austria nodded silently, then pulled Prussia to his feet gently. He handled the albino as though he were made of glass just now, and to Holy Rome, the young kingdom looked just as breakable right now. But at least he didn't struggle as Austria brought him to his horse and helped him climb up, but he also didn't say a word, which was beginning to unnerve Holy Rome.  
Austria didn't climb up behind Prussia quite yet, and instead helped Holy Rome get Brandenburg's body onto the empire's horse with him. Then he nodded to Prussia's sword, covered in dried-up blood, which lay in the grass beside where its owner had sat. "Shall I take that one?" he asked softly, and Holy Rome could only nod. Holding Brandenburg's cold body like this, his grief for the girl was already choking him. He had known her long and well, and he couldn't believe she was gone now, just like that. Frankly, he had always believed that he would be the next person in their family to be buried. He had hoped never to have to attend another funeral of a family member again.  
When Austria had gotten the sword and joined Prussia, who was still silent and staring ahead with a blank stare, the countries rode back to their camp in complete silence.

* * *

That evening, the atmosphere was heavy and grim in the tent the Allied countries used together -their leaders had placed them together like that so that they would get used to each other more, hoping that would strengthen their alliance. Holy Rome was grateful for it now: he had an excuse to stay close to Prussia and keep an eye on the grieving young kingdom, who still hadn't spoken since Holy Rome and Austria had found him. He hadn't really done anything. Hesse had tried to get him to eat a little, as his last meal had been over 24 hours ago by then and he must be famished after the battle, Netherlands had tried to talk to him, and everyone else had tried similar things, but to no avail. Holy Rome himself had sat beside them as he'd taken his little brother to Brandenburg, who lay in a seperate, smaller tent for now. There, Prussia had just held her cold hands in silence, letting a few tears slip but not actually crying. Holy Rome doubted he had actually cried already before they'd found him, and he hoped he would let out the emotions he undoubtedly felt right now sometime soon. That seemed like the best thing right now.  
The empire flinched when the two countries who hadn't been back from the battlefield yet returned; Scotland, though he looked shaken after the horrible battle, tried to smile as he walked in. "That was a well-deserved victory, lads!" he called to his allies, sounding a little too cheery to everyone else now, who just stared at him in shock and, some, with a silent warning in their eyes. The Scot seemed to realise without those that something was off, though, and he was silent for a moment, staring at the others in confusion. Beside him, his little brother England just sighed. He seemed annoyed by his brother just then.  
"What happened?" he just asked softly, emerald green eyes dull with exhaustion after the battle.  
It was Hesse who answered. "Brandenburg is dead."  
Both British countries' eyes widened in shock when they heard this. "Gods, no..." Scotland choked out, and he looked sorry for his attempt at cheerfulness when he came in. England just sighed and shook his head, saying it was a pity, that she was too young -by their standards- to have died already, then went out again. Scotland tentatively approached Holy Rome.  
"How's the little lad coping?" he asked in a whisper, nodding to Prussia, who sat on the ground in a corner of the tent, knees pulled up and chin resting on them, eyes half-closed.  
Holy Rome shook his head and let out a defeated sigh. "He's not," he answered just as quietly. "He... I'm worried about him," he admitted then, and not thinking, he blurted out everything. How Prussia hadn't spoken yet, refused to eat or rest, pretty much ignored everyone around him.  
The Scot looked at the young kingdom with pity in his pale blue eyes. "It must be tough on him," he mumbled. "I don't know either of them that well, but they seemed really close." Holy Rome nodded and said that, yes, they were. "Well..." Scotland continued, a flash of grief in his eyes. "I, er... I know a thing or two about losing people you're close to. So, well... if you need help with the lad, just... you know."  
Holy Rome nodded and thanked him softly.  
Then something of a smile formed on the older country's face. "Well, at least he has Austria," he commented carefully, looking at how the Austrian sat beside Prussia; he'd joined his cousin a little while before Scotland and England had returned, and miraculously, Prussia was somewhat leaning against him now, as if he enjoyed the silent, gentle company. Well... appreciated it at least.  
But Holy Rome wasn't quite as relieved as he saw this. He just let out a long sigh. "Yes, that's one of the things I'm worried about," he replied. "Knowing Prussia, he should've attacked Austria by now. Insulted him at the very least, and most likely he would've taunted him by now as well. He _hates_ Austria." The he blinked slowly, watching his little brother for a brief moment. "But, strangely, Austria seems to be the only one he allows near him now."  
"Grief can do the strangest things to a person," Scotland just commented. Then he turned around and walked away, after saying a soft goodbye. He sat down further away to talk with Hesse then.

As if the day wasn't bad enough yet, Savoy came back into the tent right at that moment, his face ashen grey and his expression one of pure horror. "B-bad news from the enemy front," he informed his allies softly.  
Netherlands looked up at that, giving him a confused stare. "Surely bad news for them is good news for us?" he inquired.  
But Savoy shook his head slowly, letting his shoulders hang in defeat. "No, not this. The positive part of this news, for us at least, is that after today's loss, the Bavarian army has decided to retreat from the war altogether." He swallowed hard before continuing. "The bad news is that today's loss included Bavaria herself. S-she was found dead earlier this evening, killed on the battlefield." He stared at the Germanic countries there with round eyes. "I'm so sorry... for your loss..." He trailed off, stood there in silence for a moment, then decided it was best to walk away and leave the family alone for a bit. Well, alone with Scotland, but the old country was at least keeping his distance now, and seemed to consider leaving after this as well.  
Holy Rome then heard some sniveling beside him, and he looked at Austria and Prussia again. Austria was hugging Prussia now, who didn't even try to pull away. The albino seemed to realise that his cousin was merely doing this because he needed comfort himself now, too. And then, suddenly, Prussia moved again, much to Holy Rome's surprise. What he did was the biggest surprise of all, though; Prussia just gently laid his hand on Austria's shoulder, giving his cousin a very soft, comforting pat on the back.  
Holy Rome smiled at this, then turned away, his smile fading again quickly, and he gritted his teeth. Tears burnt in his eyes, and he just let them fall in silence now. Brandenburg and Bavaria. Hopefully the two sisters could reconcile in Heaven. It would be such a shame if they couldn't rest peacefully together, after spending so many decades, centuries, as such close sisters.  
He was such a failure. What right did he have to call himself the Holy Roman Empire, if he couldn't even keep his territories safe and united? Because he was such a failure, such a poor leader to his family, Brandenburg and Bavaria had died in battle against each other, as enemies. They shouldn't have been enemies at all. Even less so should they have died at all.  
Tears trailing down his face, he got to his feet and looked around at his family, who all looked tired and miserable now. "Let me make one thing very clear," he choked out, voice quivering. "No one is to _ever_ speak of today as a victory. Today was a loss for all of us." He then took a deep breath, and finished. "May Brandenburg and Bavaria both find peace now. They have lived through enough wars... they deserve peace more than anything." Hesse, Scotland and Netherlands nodded at this, and mumbled softly in agreement. Holy Rome then glanced over his shoulder at Austria and Prussia again. Austria had calmed himself down again, but still sat pressed against Prussia's side, head resting on the albino's shoulder and holding his younger cousin's hand, his eyes closed. Prussia, on the other hand, looked up at Holy Rome now. He stared straight at him, looking him in the eyes with an intense, burning red gaze. Countless emotions lay in his eyes, but grief and pain weren't among them anymore now. The empire couldn't tell what they were instead, but as he met Prussia's gaze, he knew one thing for certain...

Just now, for a heartbeat, he had for some reason been terrified of his little brother.

* * *

 **...  
This is the first time I actually let a major character die. I've played around with this idea in Rising and Trouble, but decided not to. Good decision. Darn it, I was just starting to really get attached to Brandenburg. I had just about finished a definitive character design -that's my sign of attachment to a character.**

 **Does it help a bit if I say I cried while writing this? (Given, the super-duper-sad music probably helped, but...)**

 **I am so, so sorry. Just know that I did not do this without reason. Those will be made clear later on.**

 **Well... at least there's little Fritz to look forward to? He'll be born pretty soon in this story. Next chapter or the one after it.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	29. Chapter 29

**I'm still sorry for what I did in the last chapter... *sigh*  
Now that this chapter is so early, doesn't mean there won't be one this weekend as well! ;) I suck at keeping files in my computer without posting them within a week... and this one was done last weekend XD  
**

 **Thanks all for the reviews! I'm sorry for the sadness, but that I managed to make some people cry is a huge compliment to me! Thanks so much!  
Also, another small thing I'm happy about is that no one seemed to have gotten the subtle hints I left in the previous chapter. Or didn't mention it at least. Ah, but the real explanation of that is for a much later chapter.**

 **Well, this is one more chapter of sadness and a slight bit of a filler, but the next, as you'll see at the end of this one, should be brighter!**

* * *

The weather wasn't right.  
It just didn't fit well with the situation that day, Prussia thought. A harsh cold wind would've been more fitting, most likely. A light, drizzling rain. Even a downpour would've been okay to him, really. Even a peaceful sight of snow drifting onto the ground would've been better. Anything would.  
How could the sun be shining, while he was burrying Brandenburg?

King Frederick had wanted her in the family mausoleum, but Prussia had insisted they would just bury her. Brandenburg had always been, and would always be the same as her people. Why should her body be given the royal treatment? She had a rather fancy coffin for a 'normal' person, though: it was made of silver and stone, and on the lid they had crafted and then painted the Brandenburgian Red Eagle. Prussia hoped she liked that at least, and wasn't somewhere in Heaven complaining right now, muttering that they should've just put her into a pine box. Oak, if they really had to do something special. For as long as Prussia had known her, she had always considered herself equal to her people (superior only when it came in handy) and it would be just like her to complain now.  
Well, she was probably grateful enough that Prussia had managed to convince everyone that she should be buried in Berlin. In this warm weather, Holy Rome had insisted that it would take too long to get from Blindheim to Berlin, and that the heat wouldn't have a positive effect on her corpse. Prussia hadn't cared; there was no way he would let his wife be buried in the land where she had been killed. She deserved to go home at least.  
For this reason, Bavaria's funeral had been some time earlier already. Prussia hadn't really cared for attending that, but he had known he would have to. And besides, the girl had been Brandenburg's little sister; he had to go in her stead. Seeing Bavaria in a coffin hadn't really done anything to him, though. She had lived, and now she was dead. Everything died someday, why should he care? He had never been close with her, hell, he had never even _liked_ her. He felt bad, of course, that his family had lost two people in one day, but he hadn't been sad to see Bavaria go at all.

Brandenburg, on the other hand... Prussia was still feeling numb most of the time. Whenever he did feel anything, it was usually pain. Loneliness. Grief. The occassional fit of anger was a common thing as well. But, more often than not, he didn't feel anything since Brandenburg had died. While his mind of course told him that this was a natural reaction, that he was just grieving, his heart just... well, seemed to be nonexistent, really. But in complete honesty, he was glad he felt so little. The emotions he struggled with whenever his heart reappeared in his chest for a little while were awful, and he hated every second of the pain.

Now Prussia just stared into Brandenburg's grave as it was slowly being filled with dirt. The ceremony was over, Brand lay underground, but he couldn't move just yet. Some of the others had already left; Hesse had gone off somewhere with Saxony and Holy Rome, Austria and Hungary were walking away together right now. The only one to really stand beside Prussia anymore now was Wurttemberg, who looked just as shaken as Prussia felt at times.  
But even he looked up at Prussia eventually and sighed. "We should go, Prussia," he began carefully, knowing very well that you really didn't want to say the wrong words around Prussia as he was still grieving; he had seen the albino go into full rage against Holy Rome when the empire had suggested something for the funeral which Prussia had not agreed with _at all._ So the younger country spoke slowly now, as if he was carefully thinking over every word he would say. He probably was, Prussia thought. "You can't even see the coffin anymore now, it's completely covered already. There's no need to stay here still."  
 _There is all the need to,_ Prussia wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing no one would agree with him on this anyway. _That's Brandenburg down there. I'm not going to just leave her here. I'm not._ But instead of protesting, the albino just let Wurttemberg pull him away and off the cemetery.  
"I'll never forget her," Wurttemberg sighed after a little while, limping beside Prussia, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual -after his former incarnation had died in the Thirty Year's War, he had been reborn with a deformity in his left leg, and he'd always needed a cane to walk properly, even as a kid. Brandenburg had been so worried about him when they first discovered that. She had invested a lot of time into helping him learn to walk when he had still been under her and Prussia's care. "I owe so much to her... and to you, too, Prussia." The boy then looked up at the country who had once been like a foster-parent to him. "Thank you for everything you did for me way back when. I... I hope Brandenburg knows how grateful I am..."  
"She does," Prussia answered hoarsely. He hadn't used his voice much for a while now, and it had to get used to being used again, it seemed. "Don't worry, she knows."  
Wurttemberg just nodded and halted, and Prussia stopped walking too a second later. "I take it you're going home now, Prussia?" the younger country guessed, his voice still gentle and careful. "Do you, maybe, want some company there?"  
Prussia shook his head with a deep sigh. "No, I'll... I'll be better off on my own just now."  
Wurttemberg looked at him a little longer, as if he didn't agree with that and wanted to protest. But if he did, he gave in rather quickly and just nodded. "All right, then. I'll just see if I can find Holy Rome, then." Then he said a soft goodbye and left, leaving Prussia to stare after him for a moment. And then the albino left, too, going back to what had been his and Brandenburg's home in Berlin for ages, and where the Prussian royal family still lived when they were in Brandenburgian territory.

By the time he walked into the castle, his legs and arms were shaking, and he struggled to breathe normally. He hadn't been there since shortly after he'd become a kingdom, and that had been together with Brandenburg. In fact, this was the very first time in his life that he entered this castle knowing that he wouldn't see her face there, or hear her voice call to him to be careful with the vase she had gotten from the orient a few decades ago. She had it placed in her library, and Prussia had nearly knocked it over a dozen times or more over the years. He was a little too fond of Brandenburg's library, that was all.  
 _Well,_ he thought with a hollow feeling in his chest. _I guess it's my library now..._  
That thought sent a jolt of pain through his heart, and he stopped walking. Right then. One of the rare moments he could still feel emotions just _had_ to come around the corner now. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep walking. He wanted to go to his bedroom, really -his _own_ one, as he had come to share Brand's with her many decades ago already, and that was about the last place he wanted to go to on his own now- but his feet brought him to the library anyway. On wobbly, shaking legs he walked in, his sight soon blurring with tears already. For a moment, he tried to bite back his tears, but for once he decided it was enough. Maybe if he let it all out now, he wouldn't be this miserable anymore later on.  
Walking further into the library, he passed Brandenburg's piano, and close by was his favourite little table. He could just about picture the two of them there the way they had spent many afternoons together, probably Prussia's favourite way to pass the time; he would sit there and read or write in his journal, and she would play the piano. Prussia had always wanted to ask her to teach him how to play it, but he had never gotten around to doing it. Now he couldn't anymore -he wouldn't ask Austria after taunting his cousin so many times that it was such a sissy hobby. And besides, even though she hadn't been nearly as good as their southern family member, he'd loved to hear Brandenburg play more than he did Austria, anyway.  
He felt tears trailing down his face now, and instinctively he tried to stop himself from crying, even though he had _just_ decided to just do it for once. To hell with being strong, to hell with being a soldier, a knight, a kingdom. He had just buried his best friend, his _wife_. He had lost her, he had been unable to keep his word and protect her, and now he would never see her or hear her or feel her ever again. If he didn't allow himself to cry now, he never would again.  
And just as he thought that, a sob tore from his throat, followed by another one and then another, until he was crying so hard he had to fight for breath and he collapsed onto his knees.  
 _I'm so sorry, Brand, I'm so sorry!_ he thought, hoping that Brandenburg could hear. _I should've gone over to you on the battlefield like I had intended to, I should have stayed by your side in the first place! I had promised to protect you, and I failed. If I hadn't... you would still be here with me now, and we would be celebrating our victory over Bavaria's army._ If Brandenburg hadn't been killed, if Prussia had protected her, there would be nothing at all to grieve over.

Suddenly something hit him over the back of his head, and he fell forward, just about able to catch himself before he fell face-first onto the floor. Immediately he bit back his sobs and forced himself to be quiet again; he had a feeling he knew who was behind him now.  
"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Prince Frederick William, a teenager of about the same age as Prussia now, sounding angry. "Get up, you sniveling baby."  
Prussia scrabbled to his feet in an instant, shoulders still shaking with the effort to stop himself fom crying now, tears dripping onto the ground around his feet. When he saw the indignant, even disgusted stare his crown prince sent his way, he glared at the human.  
Frederick William just snorted. "That's about the most pathetic look I've ever seen, and I've seen a few," he commented coldly. Then he took a step closer to Prussia and roughly grabbed his kingdom by the chin to force him to look up at the human -the young prince was a bit taller than Prussia by now. "You're a kingdom now, Prussia," he snapped. "You're a kingdom, you're a knight, you're the best soldier the world has ever seen. So how can it be that someone like you can be so _pathetic,_ crying like a baby over such a minor loss?"  
His words robbed Prussia of his breath, and he stared wide-eyed at the human for a moment. It took him a moment longer to react to it otherwise. "M- _minor loss_?" he echoed, not even comprehending how someone who had partly been raised by Brandenburg could view her death as a minor loss.  
"Statistically," Frederick William told him then, voice growing even colder to Prussia's astonished ears, "she was just the same as any other soldier. She had no land that wasn't yours as well. Hell, Brandenburg is just a province in the Kingdom of Prussia, anyway!"  
"She is not!" Prussia then roared, finding his voice back completely, anger flowing through his veins as though mixed into his blood, filling every inch of his body. "She is not my province, she is my _wife_! She's my wife and my friend and my cousin!"  
" _Was,_ " the Prussian prince corrected him. "Past tense, Prussia. I'm sorry, but you'll have to get used to it. The sooner you're over her, the sooner we can send you back into battle. Honestly, I don't know what my father is thinking, letting you stay home now because you're _grieving._ "  
Then, with a roar of pure rage, Prussia jumped on the human boy and knocked him to the ground, hands instinctively folding around his neck and pressing it shut. "How dare you?" he demanded in a furious scream. " _How dare you?!_ She raised you, you heartless piece of shit!" He raised Frederick William's head off the ground a bit, then smashed it back down, eliciting a grunt from the human, but that was all. "She's the reason you're a goddamn _prince_ now! Without Brandenburg, I wouldn't be a kingdom at all, and you would have no throne to look forward to!"  
Frederick William tried to answer, but only a choking sound came over his lips. Then he grabbed Prussia's hands that were still clenched around his neck, and tried to pull himself free just enough to breathe and talk. Prussia didn't make his struggle easy on him, but he managed eventually. "I miss her too!" the prince choked out suddenly, surprising Prussia, which brought the country to let go just a little more then. The emotions in the young human's voice sounded genuine, and that was the one thing that Prussia didn't understand at that moment, after all he'd just said. "I swear, Prussia, I miss her too. But as I said, statistically, Brandenburg's death isn't a major loss. I know that, officially, she's still a country. But you know as well as I do, Prussia, that she was practically your province from the day you became a kingdom. You noticed it, didn't you?"  
Those words struck Prussia like thunder, and for a moment he could only hear voices of his allies in his head. _We're lucky to have a strong country like Prussia as our ally. Prussia may be quite small, his army is strong. Prussia, one of the Holy Roman territories._ Everyone had already forgotten about Brandenburg in those situations, hadn't treated her as Prussia's equal at all. This realisation cut deep into his already damaged heart, and for a moment he could only think that Brandenburg's death might be his fault.  
Frederick William's voice brought him back to the present a few seconds later. "You get it now? I understand your feelings, Prussia, but you're a kingdom and a soldier; we cannot afford to have you weakened by grief like this. So for God's sake, put those emotions aside and think of statistics. Just statistics -no emotions involved there, are there?" The teenager seemed to be trying to calm Prussia down, realising now that he had made a mistake that, if he wasn't careful now, might in fact cost him his life. He, too, knew that after Brandenburg's death, Prussia's emotions had a habit of disappearing then suddenly going into extremes, and in certain moods he could be dangerous like that. "Just as I, as prince and future King in Prussia, have to think first of the people," the boy went on, "you are their kingdom, and you need to put your people first, Prussia. In a strong kingdom, there is no place for weakness."  
Just as the strongest of his rage had subsided, it bubbled up in Prussia again with a vengeance, and he pressed his crown prince's airways shut. "I'm grieving now," he said in an angry mutter, but tears dripping from his jaws onto the human's face. "As you can see, I'm _crying_ now. Do I appear any weaker to you? _Hm?_ " Frederick William struggled, but couldn't get Prussia off this time. The albino just let his tears flow freely again and gritted his teeth. " _Well?_ Because I don't feel any weaker!"  
"G'off..." the human choked out, gasping for the breath he couldn't get. "G...ge'off..."  
Prussia watched him struggle for a moment longer, then sighed and let go of the boy, who desperately filled his lungs with air the second he could. "I've killed before, you know," Prussia just said matter-of-factly. "And I will do it again, no doubt. Countless times. But not you," he added, getting to his feet. Tears were still running down his face and dripping onto the ground, but he was quiet again now. "You're my crown prince, I need you to succeed your father. Being returned to Poland is about the last thing I want, so consider yourself lucky." With a sigh he turned and walked out of the library, but not before halting in the doorway and adding flatly: "Though I must warn you: if you happen to knock over that vase, I might just reconsider my priorities."

* * *

The War of Spanish Succession raged on even after both deceased countries had been buried, and it wasn't long until Prussia joined in again as well. He fought more fiercely than before, some of the techniques he used were described as near-savage by some of his allies in battle. His attitude had gotten worse, his arrogance more prominent and generally less jokingly. Everyone who knew what had happened in the Battle of Blindheim knew that this was a reaction to it, and that fighting was Prussia's way of coping with the loneliness, his way of venting emotions. Soon enough, they thought, he would be himself again.  
But years came and passed, and he didn't change. Some of the Prussian's closer family, Saxony and Holy Rome most of all, feared the loss of Brandenburg had damaged him permanently by then.  
Prussia himself didn't think of it as damage at all; he was as proud of his strength and skill as ever, and he fell in love with battle more than ever before. When he fought, he didn't feel, and so he did it as much as he could, even going as far as to join campaigns that didn't involve the Prussian army at all.  
The kingdom was called home briefly in 1706, for the marriage between Prince Frederick William and his cousin, Sophia Dorothea of Hanover. Then he left again as soon as he could. A year later, as he was at the front, he received a letter from his royal family stating that the newly married couple had had their first son. He was somewhat happy about that: nearing his 50s, King Frederick I wasn't the youngest of people anymore. It wasn't uncommon for people to die by that age, and Prussia was glad to know that at least his only surviving son and successor was already taking care of having his own successors. But mere months later he received another letter, stating the boy had died already. That didn't bother the kingdom much; Prince Frederick William wasn't even 20 years old yet and not on the throne. He had plenty of time left to secure Prussia's continued independence from Poland.  
Meanwhile the war wasn't looking too good for the Grand Alliance. They were losing against France increasingly often. But it wasn't until 1710 that the war had affected Prussia so much that he was weak enough to be dragged home to Berlin. Any attempt by the king to get his country home from the battlefield before that had been in vain, and Prussia had just continued fighting despite being too tired or sick to lift a sword at times. During times like those he had stayed and created strategies until he felt well enough to join the battles again. Even France, the victor so far, had stopped actively fighting in the war a couple of years before Prussia did.

In all those years, Bavaria had been reborn once again, but not Brandenburg. The Margraviate was treated like a Prussian province, more often than not called 'Prussia' as much as the actual Kingdom of Prussia was. The title of 'Margrave of Brandenburg' that Prussia's king had, had become something minor. 'King in Prussia' was what he was known as now above anything else.  
After his initial disappointment about it, this came as a relief to Prussia. Even if the country were to be reborn, he wouldn't get Brandenburg back, not ever. He didn't even _want_ a reincarnation of Brandenburg; it would just be a nuisance to him now, like Bavaria was to Austria. Prussia's cousin had taken it upon himself to raise Bavaria like the little boy's first incarnation had once done him. And if there was one thing he didn't want, it was a child to look after. Even if Prussia didn't raise it, he knew he would be expected to spend time with it and teach it about being a country, like he was now expected to help out with raising Frederick William's one-year-old daughter, Frederike Wilhemine, and his second son, born in August 1710. That boy died before he was a year old, by which time Sophia Dorothea was pregnant again.  
Prussia honestly didn't give a shit anymore. He was more interested in what the outcome of the war would be than anything else. France, Spain and England had moved the war to their American colonies, so it was harder to get information quickly, and Prussia almost made a sport of gathering as much information as he could and writing it down in his journal. He didn't write a personal report anymore until late January the next year.

* * *

 _24 January 1712_

 _It's so noisy in here, it's unawesome as hell. I mean, I get that Sophia Dorothea is giving birth and all, but can't she do so quietly?_  
 _Well, in a few days, peace negotiations are due to start in the Dutch city of Utrecht. Ther-_  
 _...Screw it, I can't concentrate with that annoying woman making noise like this. I don't even know what I wanted to write, other than that it was supposed to be a sentence starting with 'there'. Thinking about it, I don't even know that for sure! 'Therein'? 'Therefore'?_  
 _Oh, wow, it's quiet now. Finally!_  
 _..._  
 _And now it's gone again. Why do babies cry just after they're born, anyway? Does it hurt to be born? Is it scary? I wouldn't know, I never experienced it like humans do._  
 _Oh well, I suppose this means I have a new prince or princess. Just great. Let's see how long this one survives. If it's any longer than its two elder brothers did, that's a miracle. If it does and it's a girl, it's useless to me. Girls cannot succeed the title of King in Prussia and thus cannot prevent my being handed back to Poland after Frederick William dies._  
 _So fingers crossed that it's a prince who will live longer than a year._

With a sigh, Prussia put his journal and quill down and walked out of his room, to Prince Frederick William's office, where he guessed the man would be now. He arrived there just as the crown prince was handed his newest child, and Prussia watched from a distance, silent.  
"Well then," Frederick William declared proudly. "We'll call him Frederick."  
 _So it's a boy,_ Prussia thought flatly. _Well, that's good, I suppose._  
The human then spotted his kingdom standing in the doorway and called him over. With a proud gaze he promptly handed his new son to Prussia. "Meet your future crown prince Frederick."  
Prussia just wordlessly took the baby in his arms (mostly because he wasn't given a choice) and stared at him with expressionless red eyes. Then he blinked and sighed. "Another Frederick, eh?" he mumbled. "How creative of you."  
The human did not look amused at that comment. With narrowed eyes, he told Prussia: "That's a name that has been used in this family for-"  
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Prussia interrupted him, bored already. "I was there when the first of you Fredericks was born, remember?" He then looked back down at the newborn baby, surprised to see the little boy staring up at him with bright blue eyes. They stared at each other like that for a moment in complete silence, until the little Frederick let out a delighted squeal. Prussia just continued staring at him, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. His prince's previous child had been a lot more quiet than this one. Maybe this little critter would be stronger than his brothers had been after all.  
Realising he had been staring for quite some time now, Prussia cleared his throat loudly and handed the boy back to his father, averting his gaze already as he did so. "Well," he declared matter-of-factly. "I'm not going to call that kid Frederick while your father still lives. I can hardly start calling a baby Frederick II, when it's not even clear if he will become _King_ Frederick II, now can I?"  
Frederick William seemed to be getting more annoyed with his country with the minute now, and if he hadn't been occupied carrying his son, he might've even thrown a punch or two -he had a temper like that, after all. "Then what will you call him?" he demanded.  
 _Critter sounds good,_ Prussia thought to himself. _Squishy-face. Squealy. Crybaby._ But he said none of those aloud, knowing that if he did, Frederick William might get angry enough to just drop the kid and punch Prussia anyway. And then Prussia would have a nasty bruise and no future crown prince anymore. So he went for a more acceptable nickname in the end.  
"How about Fritz?"

* * *

 **So, to make up for the loss of Brand, have a Fritz!**

 **Well, and about the thing with Frederick William, he was known for his temper. He would lash out at everyone and everything, especially Fritz, since their personalities were practically opposites. Prussia would be no exception, especially in this situation, since he displayed a lot of 'weakness' just there.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter despite it's filler-ness, and thanks for reading!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Now this is the last chapter for this week, I swear XD  
**

 **Fritz is just too cute to _not_ write about. And when he's older, he'll be too awesome. And so on...  
*sigh* Why must this character be human? I want him to last more than a few chapters...**

 **Oh well. HeadphonesCityActress, Just-An-Average-Dude and Utterly Irrelevant Elephant, thanks for the follows and favourites! TheBlueAcid, thanks for the review!**

* * *

It was a nice, warm summer morning in the year 1716, and the sun was just rising over the hills, shedding light onto the windows of Prussia's bedroom, shining right into his face. Still, it wasn't the light that woke him. Not the light.  
Out of the blue, an earsplittingly loud bang sounded close to Prussia, and the kingdom jumped up with a startled yelp, so quickly that he fell out of bed with a loud thud, wide awake in a heartbeat. As he lay on the floor, stunned for a moment, he began to realise what the noise had been, and he gritted his teeth. With the angriest glare he could muster, he scrambled to his feet and stumbled over to his window (turns out he wasn't awake enough yet to walk properly). He slammed the window open, staring down at the two servants who had just fired a cannon. _Right under his bedroom window._  
"Do you idiots have to do this _every single morning?!_ " he bellowed at them, enraged and more annoyed than words could describe.  
The two humans looked startled, and exchanged a nervous glance before looking up at Prussia and calling to him apologetically: "W-well, yes, actually. His Majesty's orders: we have to wake up His Royal Highness Frederick at dawn each morning to the sound of a cannonfire."  
Prussia just gritted his teeth and grumbled something to himself under his breath, then responded angrily to this. " _His Royal Highness_ is 4 years old," he informed the two. "It is _dawn._ This is _my bedroom._ Oh, and it also just so happens to be _my day off._ "  
Both servants flinched at the rage in their country's voice. "O-our sincerest apologies, Master Prussia," one of them said with a quivering voice. "I-if you wish, we shall make you a herbal tea to help you fall asleep again in a moment, sir."  
At this, Prussia just stared at them as though they had just suggested the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "No thanks," he muttered in response. "That stuff's awful. I'm awake now, anyway." He stifled a yawn and added with an edge to his voice: "Just remember to move the damn thing somewhere else tomorrow morning, for God's sake."  
"Yes, Master Prussia."  
Scoffing, Prussia turned around and got dressed. For Heaven's sake, his pulse was still racing after that blasted cannonfire. He didn't know what was wrong with him, really, but he hated loud noise like that. Anything that sounded like it exploded: guns, cannons, any of those things. He'd heard enough of those on the battlefield, and sometimes he still had nightmares because of it. It was the most ridiculous thing ever; he'd never had a reaction like this to any war, but the War of Spanish Succession was burnt into his mind and haunted him on a weekly basis. Most of the time, even after 12 years had passed since her death, it was still the sight of Brandenburg, bleeding and slowly dying in his arms, that plagued his dreams. Explosions and gunfire was a close second.  
Well, he did know what was wrong with him, really. He just denied it with all his might. Because the mighty, awesome Kingdom of Prussia was _not_ traumatised. No way. That was something for humans, not an immortal soldier who had lived through centuries of war and strife. He had never been scared or traumatised by any wars before, why would he be now? It was the same as it had always been, except of course for the inclusion of firearms, and he just _hated the noise._ That was all. Nothing to be scared of.

When he was done getting dressed, he quickly made his way over to King Frederick William's office. The man had succeeded his father when Frederick I had died in 1713. And over the years that had passed since then, Prussia had grown to dislike the man more and more. But at the same time, he was growing more fond of the human's son with the week, it seemed. Little Frederick, still called Fritz by Prussia even though the only person he could confuse names with was dead now, was a... unique child. Very bright, very creative. Very unlike his father. Where love for art and culture was concerned, the tiny human already seemed to be taking after his grandfather more than his father.  
For this reason, Prussia's mood brightened when he saw Fritz with his father in the man's office. The little boy's eyes lit up as well when he spotted the albino. "Prussia!" he greeted the kingdom happilly. "Good morning!"  
Prussia smiled and had just opened his mouth to greet him back, but was cut off before he could utter the second sylable.  
"Frederick, be quiet!" Frederick William scolded his son. "I was talking to you, boy. You do _not_ speak while I'm speaking. Is that clear?"  
Fritz bowed his head and stared at the floor with a small pout. "Yes, father. I'm sorry."  
Prussia stared at the scene with disapproval written all over his face. This was one of the reasons he disliked his new king: the man was far too harsh on his son. On anyone, really. Even Prussia himself was an occassional victim of his temper, especially where the crown prince was concerned. The kingdom had received a beating more than once for being 'too soft' on the boy. It's not like Prussia could help it; Fritz was just too cute and innocent to be strict with.  
When he was done speaking to his son, the Prussian king turned to look at Prussia. "You're late, young man," he said sternly. Prussia sighed and rolled his eyes. Why did all humans think that, once they _looked_ older than him, they could just go around calling their centuries old country 'young man'? He could take it from others, but Frederick William acted a little too authoritive to his liking. What had happened to the cute little toddler the man had once been? He hadn't been too different from his own little son back then; cute and innocent.  
"Your Majesty, today is my day off," Prussia just calmly reminded his monarch. "You told me yourself just yesterday."  
"It is your day off from any governmental work," Frederick William answered dismissively. "Since his usual teacher is unable to come here today, I want you to take Frederick out for a riding lesson.  
 _You unawesome deceptive little jerk,_ Prussia thought with a surge of anger. Now that he heard this, he could totally imagine the king having instructed the servants to place the cannon right under Prussia's bedroom window, so as to ensure he would wake up this early as well. 'You shall have a day off tomorrow,' he had said. Yeah, right.  
But at least he wasn't too opposed to the idea of taking the little prince out horseriding for the day. He could do as he pleased when he didn't have to worry about the king's opinion of how he acted around Fritz. With a tiny, reassuring smile to the child, Prussia nodded politely.  
"Good. Take him to have breakfast first," the king then said, already turning around to start his work for the day. "Then please leave. I do not wish to see you home before noon; the boy needs to develop some stamina."  
Prussia just nodded again and turned around as well. Fritz happilly hobbled after him until he caught up to the kingdom. Beside Prussia, the tiny human looked up at him expectantly. "Can we read together again today?" he asked in a whisper, voice quivering with excitement.  
Prussia smiled; Fritz loved books more than anything, it seemed. But they were a forbidden pleasure to him, as his father didn't want him to 'waste time' reading. But Prussia, since he shared the boy's love for books, would often smuggle a book with him whenever they had time with just the two of them, and would read 'together' with the boy. Meaning, Prussia read most of the book to him, and Fritz would proudly point out to him which words he could already read.  
Prussia just smiled, which was enough of an answer to the boy, who jumped in joy the moment they were out of Frederick William's sight.

* * *

Fritz looked as uncomfortable on his small horse -actually a pony, he was still a little kid after all- as he always did. At least Prussia was with him now, and no one else. The boy was always scolded if he fell off his horse, which only discouraged him to practice further. Prussia was perhaps the kindest person in his young life right now, alon with his mother. But she didn't always have time for him, and neither did Prussia. The kingdom felt bad for that, and for that reason, he tried to make today as enjoyable as he could for the little prince.  
So when he heard the child sigh, he looked at him and smiled warmly. "Say, Fritz," he began with the most cheerful, kind voice he could muster. "Would you like to go to Berlin for the day?"  
Fritz looked up at this, his eyes shining. "Can we?"  
Prussia nodded; Berlin was only about 2 hours away on horseback. He had wanted to go there that day anyway, for personal business. Since they'd be traveling on horseback, it was good practice for Fritz, and he would definitely enjoy the market there. Maybe Prussia could even find a new book for himself and the little prince to read later that day. And so long as Frederick William wouldn't find out what they'd been doing exactly, it would all be just fine. And besides, he allowed Prussia at least to keep books. Probably because he'd get his throat slit if he tried to take them away from his kingdom.

"Are we going to the market?" Fritz asked when the city came in sight a little while later.  
Prussia nodded again. "Of course. I also need to go somewhere else, but that won't take too long. And for that, I'll need to go to the market first, anyway."  
The boy was nearly boucing on his pony's back, and Prussia had to hold back his laughter as he saw this. He had definitely made the right choice. _Of course I did, I'm awesome like that,_ he told himself proudly. _Unlike my unawesome king, I'm awesome enough to know how to deal with my awesome crown prince!_  
They were able to rest their horses at a stable just outside the city, and went further on foot. Once they reached the market, Fritz nearly bounced off in joy, but Prussia stopped him by grabbing the back of his coat. "Stay beside me, or we'll be back home before you can say 'sorry, Prussia', understood?" Prussia shuddered at the thought of what his king would do to him if he lost the man's son in Berlin. Or anywhere. Ever.  
Fritz bowed his head. "Sorry, Prussia."  
"There," Prussia said with a hint of laughter in his voice now. "That's quick, isn't it?"  
The little human stared up at him wide-eyed for a moment. "Can you really get us back home _that_ quick?" His voice was full of awe as he asked that.  
At this, Prussia laughed. "If I get angry or worried, you bet I can!" he just answered, still laughing. _Did he seriously believe that? Oh well, he's only 4 years old, after all._  
Some people stared at the two in awe as they passed, and Prussia had to suppress a sigh. _If it's Fritz you're so sparkly-eyed about, let me tell you now, he's a toddler. There are tons of those around. And if it's_ _ **me**_ _, well, feast your eyes is all I can say. The only albino immortal in Europe, perhaps the world. What a sight!_ He generally liked attention, but when people stared at him, he still got the feeling it was because of his albinism. Centuries of distrust, fear and even persecution for his albinism had really done a number on his confidence in these situations. Right now he just felt very uncomfortable.  
Suddenly, Fritz halted beside him, and Prussia stopped walking as well and looked down at him. The boy was staring at something further down the street with a bright smile, and Prussia followed his gaze curiously. There was a musician there, playing the flute for money. The kingdom had heard the music, of course, but hadn't paid attention to it yet. The man was good, though, really good, and Prussia understood why his little prince looked so excited about it. "Want to go over there?" Prussia asked softly, leaning down to the child for a moment. Fritz nodded happilly.  
The human stopped playing when the two people approached, stunned for a moment. He clearly recognised the little boy as their country's prince, and due to his unique appearance, everyone knew who Prussia was the moment they saw him. But unlike some others would, he reacted as normally as he would in any other situation. He just smiled at Fritz when the boy came to stand in front of him, staring up at him with bid, admiring eyes. "My, what a charming young man you are," the human said warmly. "Would you like to hear a song, little one?"  
Fritz nodded immediately, but didn't forget his manners. "Yes, please, if you could!"  
The man chuckled and started playing another song. Fritz listened with pure joy etched on every inch of his face, and halfway through the song, Prussia closed his eyes for a moment, and let his thoughts be caried away by the music. It was so calm, melodical and soothing. It felt like he stood there for an eternity, listening to the music, and he felt somewhat disappointed when it stopped again. Fritz started clapping enthusiastically, and Prussia looked down at him, chuckling softly. The human, too, was holding back a few chuckles. Meanwhile, Prussia was already reaching into one of his pockets and grabbed a few coins as payment. The musician looked shocked when he saw the money. "Oh, no, no!" he protested politely, shaking his head. "For the prince, it's free."  
"Might be, but _I'm_ not a prince, am I?" Prussia answered, then he grinned. "I'm _much_ more awesome than a prince, anyway!"  
The human looked confused after that last part, but he gratefully took the money and thanked Prussia, after which the kingdom and Fritz went on their way again.  
When Prussia spotted the stall he had wanted to go to, he nudged Fritz gently and nodded to it. "We need to go there for a moment, all right? For, er... my business here, which I told you about."  
The little boy furrowed his brows as he looked at the wares for sale there. "Flowers?" he asked, confused. "Why flowers?"  
"That's my business, as I just said." Without saying more, he walked over to the florist's stall. The merchant's wife was helping out now, apparently, and so did his son and two daughters. Prussia knew from conversations with the man that they did so a few days a week, but so far, Prussia had only ever met his son. It was one of the daughters, a girl of just a year or two younger than his physical age, who greeted him.  
"Welcome," she began, in a way that immediately told Prussia this had been rehearsed many times. But when she saw the family's customer, her grey eyes widened, and she stood motionless for a moment. Then she choked out, "Y-you m-m-must be Prussia, right? Aren't you?" She sounded both excited and terrified.  
Confused and somewhat amused, Prussia just nodded.  
At this, the girl seemed to freeze over where she stood, and it only got worse when she saw little Fritz poking out his head from behind Prussia, where he'd been hiding -he was a little shy sometimes. "That's the prince!" she exclaimed, nearly jumping in shock. "F-father, the _crown prince_ is in our shop! And _Prussia!_ "  
"Yes, yes," the father of the family then said, walking up to them, thankfully brining along a calm atmosphere. This had started to become more awkward and uncomfortable with the second. "He's a regular here, remember? I hope you've introduced yourself properly."  
The girl went beetroot red at this, and Prussia started laughing. "Not quite, but no problem," he said, and the girl relaxed again -and so did her parents. "After a while, you tend to get used to things like this," Prussia just went on, shrugging. "I suppose I'm just too awesome for this world."  
The man just nodded, though not quite agreeingly. "Well, the usual, I take it?" Prussia nodded then, his cocky grin gone in a heartbeat. The merchant went off and got a bundle of flowers, and by the time he got back Prussia already had the money ready for him. It was a wordless exchange; the human knew by now why the kingdom came here every so often.  
His other daughter, a young woman who was slightly older than Prussia's appearance, didn't. "My father tells me you come here often, sir," she said, a smile creeping onto her face. "Is there a special lady?"  
"Yeah, kinda," Prussia answered with a sigh, averting his gaze for a second.  
Almost simultaneously, her father looked at her with a warning stare. "Don't mention that," he warned under his breath, but Prussia still heard it. "There is one, but she's, well..."  
"She's dead," Prussia finished for him, flatly. Nodding to the flowers in his hand, he added, "These are meant for her grave."  
Immediately the girl looked at him apologetically and guiltily alike. "I'm so sorry!" she choked out hurriedly. "I didn't mean to-"  
"Again, no problem," Prussia just interrupted, turning around already. "Thanks, anyway. Fritz!" he called as the toddler stood staring at the family a little longer, not following Prussia. "Come on, kid. We need to go." Then Fritz squeaked a soft goodbye to the other people, and ran after Prussia to catch up.  
For a moment, Prussia forgot to slow down his pace for the boy, and Fritz hobbled after him unsteadily. "Prussia!" he called in his high-pitched voice. "Wait for me!" Then, with a sigh, Prussia realised there was no way the little boy would keep up with him, and he slowed down again so that the toddler could walk beside him. "What are the flowers for?" he asked his kingdom then, staring at the flowers with round, curious eyes.  
"Didn't you listen?" Prussia just asked, then he sighed again and shook his head. "I don't feel like repeating it, so you'll have to wait and see now, boy." His curiosity not satisfied yet, Fritz looked unhappy for a heartbeat, but he didn't ask again.  
The child looked startled when Prussia brought him to a cemetery, and immediately, he clung to the Prussian's legs. "Are there ghosts here?" he asked, voice quivering.  
Prussia just shook his head. "And if there are," he added with a grin in Fritz's direction, "you have the Awesome Me to protect you." Still, Fritz didn't seem to get any more comfortable there, as he walked closely behind Prussia, staring wide-eyed at the graves around him. Prussia just immediately went over to a familiar gravestone, one he went to on every day off he got, which unfortunately weren't many. He stared at it for a little while, then knelt down with a sigh and placed the flowers he'd just bought on it. "I'm sorry that it's been a while, Brand," he said softly. "But look, I've brought Fritz as well this time. It was about time he met you." He turned to look over his shoulder at the toddler, who stood back a little, and gestured to him to come closer, which he tentatively did. "That's Brandenburg, Fritz," he said with a nod in the grave's direction, almost as though he were introducing the two. "I've told you about Brandenburg, haven't I?"  
The boy nodded, not really comprehending what was going on, and remained quiet, staring at the gravestone with wide, slightly scared eyes.  
"I need to go now, though," Prussia then went on to Brandenburg, hoping she could hear. His heart still broke every time that he didn't get an answer. "It's been a long day for little Fritz, and I don't think his short legs will hold him much longer, so I need to bring him home. I'll be back soon, love, I promise." He looked at the grave a little longer, then turned around again and leaned down a little to let Fritz grab his hand, which the little boy did after a short hesitation.  
Hand in hand like that, the two left the graveyard and walked back to the stables the way the had come. The flutist was still on the market square, playing his music, and Fritz asked if he could go and listen again. Prussia agreed, and when he saw the boy enjoying himself there for a moment, he slipped away quietly.  
Seeing Fritz like that had given him an idea, and once he was certain it was safe to leave Fritz alone for just a moment, he went into a woodcrafter's shop, finished his business there in a hurry and went back to his crown prince. The little boy was still safe and sound, enjoying the music, thankfully. He looked disappointed when Prussia called him to go home, but once he was beside the albino again, he yawned. With a warm chuckle, Prussia picked him up and carried the boy back to their horses.  
As Fritz had fallen asleep in his arms by the time they reached the stables, Prussia let the boy sleep against him on his horse, and he kept the boy's pony on the reins beside him as he rode back home. Just before arriving back, though, he woke Fritz up again and told him to ride the last bit by himself -the king wouldn't apreciate it if his son was asleep now.

* * *

As Prussia had expected, Frederick William came to check on his son's progress when thy got back, and thankfully, Fritz could muster the energy to ride a bit longer and show his father said progress. But when the animal galloped faster than the boy had intended eventually, the little prince fell off with a yelp. He sniffed softly as he pushed himself up again and bit his lip, but remained quiet otherwise as his father bellowed at him for falling off like that. Prussia immediately felt bad; if they hadn't gone so far and Fritz hadn't been so tired after the long day, this wouldn't have happened for sure.  
"I had hoped you'd be as good a teacher to him as you are to the army," the king then said, turning to Prussia with a hard stare. "This is disappointing, boy."  
"To be fair, he's only a toddler," Prussia protested, averting his gaze quickly as he realised his mistake, but he didn't bite his tongue and be quiet quite yet. "There are plenty of boy his age who cannot even get onto a horse yet, so he's doing well consider-"  
Frederick William just slapped him in the face and told him to shut up, and with his cheek feeling like it was on fire after the hard slap, Prussia flinched. He could've seen that one coming.  
"He should do _better,_ " was all Frederick William said, an angry edge to his voice. "See to it that it happens." And with that, he turned around and walked away again, not even looking at his son anymore as he passed the boy.  
With a sigh, Prussia walked over to little Fritz and helped him up again. The boy sniveled a bit more now, and clearly his back was sore after the fall. Still, he apologised for his 'mistake'. Prussia immediately shook his head and got onto one knee in front of him, holding the little boy by the shoulders comfortingly. "You did very well, Fritz, don't worry," he said soothingly. "Even I still fall off sometimes, and I've been riding horses for many, many centuries. They're animals and they're unpredictable, and because of that we cannot always judge what we need to do well enough. Everyone falls off a horse sometimes, really."  
"Even father?"  
"Even him, yes."  
Fritz looked reassured by that, but still sniveled a bit. "I'm tired," he whispered.  
Prussia picked him up again and held him in his arms for a moment. "I know," he answered softly. "Going to Berlin and back like that is a long journey for you yet, on those little legs you have. Someday it'll be much easier for you, I promise, but for now I'm not surprised. Come on, little Fritz," he then added, heading back to the house the royal family lived in, hugging the boy a little closer as he carried him inside. "You were awesome today."  
As he brought the tiny human to his bedroom, Prussia felt the wooden flute he had hidden under his coat poke his side every few steps he took. But he decided not to give it to Fritz quite yet: this was a gift for another day, when he was awake enough to appreciate it.  
 _Take your time to grow up, little Fritz,_ he told the boy in silence, closing his eyes as he held the little prince. _Never mind what your father says, he's being unreasonable with you. You're doing great, and one day, you'll be a great king._  
 _But for now, little one, just take it easy and take your time to grow awesome._

* * *

 **Well, I don't know if I was accurate with everything about Fritz. I'm watching a documentary on him and reading up on him, but the documentary's in German and, well, I'm not fluent yet. So I hope I get most of the dynamics between him and his dear daddy right at least. (Maybe a little exaggerated. Probably. But again, it's fiction. No rules stating I need to be 100% accurate.)**

 **I hope you liked the chapter, and thanks once again for reading!**


	31. Chapter 31

**Holy Roman Empire, this chapter turned out so darn long compared to usual, and it's only a filler (with some revelations in it, mind you)**

 **SunshineSola, TheBlueAcid, Abc and Tius, thanks for the lovely reviews! Indeed, Abc, talk about dedication XD Much appreciated though, really!  
And Sakura Erza, thanks for the favourite and follow on this!**

 **Well, you wanted fillers with Fritz. You're getting them. And then some characters we haven't had as _major_ characters in a while, either. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _16 July 1724_

 _I was just told that Austria, Holy Rome and Hungary will arrive for a visit this afternoon. Just them, none of their leaders is coming as well. Which makes me wonder why they haven't informed me of it earlier, as, obviously, they're here to visit the Awesome Me. Why else would they come without any humans? If they had told me personally, and had done so a while ago already, I could've still told them they're not welcome here and send them away before they even arrived._  
 _Which is probably the reason they didn't bother to tell me._

 _It will be Fritz's first time meeting them, though. I hope he realises soon enough that they're a bunch of unawesome pricks. Well, Holy Rome isn't so bad. And Hungary is pretty all right these days. I guess._  
 _So long as Fritz will know that Austria is a sissy jerk. Then he has at least learned the most important lesson he can learn the coming days._

"Prussia, it is important that you make a good impression on these nations," King Frederick William lectured his kingdom just past noon, minutes before their guests were due to arrive at Konigs Wusterhaussen, where the Prussian royal family lived. It was more a mansion than a palace, which had been Frederick William's goal. He wanted his children to be raised as 'normal' people. That, and he was also a bit of a cheapskate, Prussia thought. Not that it was a bad trait; his economy was strong like this, and thus, so was Prussia himself.  
But it wasn't exactly the best place to receive guests, Prussia thought. _It's one of their first times in Berlin -or close to it anyway- since... since 20 years ago. With a blossoming economy and a status as a kingdom, I want a goddamn_ _ **palace**_ _to show off to them! Austria has a palace, and he's an unawesome little shit even with that massive structure as his home!_ If Prussia could welcome countries to a palace like that, he would do so with more style, grace and most importantly _much more awesomeness_ than Austria could ever hope to do.  
For now, though, he just stifled an annoyed sigh and kept up the facade that he had any respect for his leader. Well, given, he did, but not during moments like these. "I am well aware, Your Majesty," he just answered calmly.  
"I do not want any of your usual stupidity."  
He wasn't sure, but Prussia thought he could feel his eye twitch in annoyance at this. Just once though. "What 'stupidity', if I may ask?" His voice was getting strained already. _Way to go, Prussia,_ he told himself, forcing his muscles to relax and his breathing to remain steady. _You know that if you blow up here, he will do so, too. Him and his fists. And cane. And whatever he has within reach._ Bruises from a human's attacks usually didn't stay too long, a few hours at most if they were really bad, but it hurt just the same as an attack from another country on the moment of impact. What bothered him most, though, was the knowledge that Frederick William didn't care _what_ he hit, so long as he hit something. And to have bruises on his face, or anywhere else where they would be visible, was about the last thing he wanted, considering who were coming in just a few minutes to hours from now. He was too awesome for that.  
"First of all," the king explained to him in a stern voice, "I do not want to hear you make fun of Austria or Hungary, and any spiteful comments in the Holy Roman Empire's presence will not be tollerated." Prussia stifled a sigh again. That last part was completely unnecessary, he liked his elder brother. The first part, however... it was a good thing he got a reminder. "Second," his leader went on, "I do not want to hear you even _utter_ the word 'awesome' for as long as they're here, understood?" Prussia nodded with the softest sigh he'd ever heard. "And lastly, please refrain from any of you and Frederick's _feminine_ activities."  
'Feminine activities' seemed to be Frederick William's favourite way to describe some of his kingdom's and son's hobbies: reading for the both of them, refering to certain things as 'cute' in Prussia's case and playing the flute in Fritz's. And then some. Really anything that did not involve strength, weapons or war was 'feminine' in his book. _I'm manlier than you, little shit, at least_ _ **I**_ _don't wear a_ _ **wig.**_ Luckily enough. Stupid habit that men and women alike across all of Europe had these days. Once they had claimed Prussia was cursed because of his white hair, now they all wore white wigs themselves. Probably the only reason the king allowed Prussia not to was because the albino already had the 'appropriate' haircolour by nature.  
"I'll make sure I'll behave, Your Majesty," Prussia replied then, voice dripping with mock-respect and contempt. For once, just one sentence, he could take the risk. He had to, for the sake of his own dignity.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the guests arrived, and Prussia stood waiting for them with a straight back and his chin up. His shoulder still stung from the punches he'd received, though.  
His heart both fluttered and sank when he saw the three of them; Austria, looking as smug and sissy as ever, Hungary by his side, and Holy Rome, still looking no taller than the 12-year-old Fritz. He hated them, but at the same time he was somewhat glad they were here, though he couldn't understand why.  
Hungary left Austria's side when she saw Prussia standing there and walked up to the albino. "Prussia, it's been so long!" she greeted him, sounding happier to see him than she had in centuries. "How have you been? You look well."  
"Quite," Prussia answered with a tiny, cocky grin. "The economy's going well for me these days. King Frederick William seems to be good for _something_ , at least."  
"Prussia!" Hungary scolded him immediately, though she too was grinning. "You don't say that about your leader!"  
"Oh, how stupid of me," Prussia joked then, snickering. "You're right, I shouldn't; he's a good-for-nothing shit." He stopped when Holy Rome and Austria had reached them as well, and he greeted them with a polite nod. He knew he could speak freely, but he also knew that he had to at least _look_ like he was following his king's rules; the man was probably watching from one of the windows on the second floor.  
"Hungary's right," Austria commented when Prussia led the three inside. "You do look well, Prussia. Good to see."  
Prussia kept on walking without reacting to that, though he did sigh. _And there he goes again, ruining the atmosphere with his sissy voice and unawesome existence._ Thankfully, Holy Rome decided to say something as well then. "Well, I must say," he said, looking around. "This doesn't look like a bad place to live." _You don't have to be polite about it._  
Prussia's heart warmed immediately when they walked into the main hall and he heard a familiar, slightly high-pitched child's voice just before turning around the corner there and seeing the kid. This was the best time to run into Fritz like that, since it meant Prussia didn't have to be alone with these countries now. There was something off about the way they acted now. "Fritz!" he called to the young prince, who was talking to his older sister. The boy looked up immediately, his eyes widening when he saw the important guests had arrived at last. Nervous, Fritz walked over to them and introduced himself.  
Hungary seemed to melt at this, and Prussia was surprised to see this side of her. Somehow he had always thought of her as the tough girl she had been when they'd first met, and he hadn't considered the fact that she could've changed since then. She had never cared about cute things when they had been kids. But Prussia was happy to see this reaction; Fritz was the cutest prince on the entire planet, and everyone could know for all he cared. So long as they also knew that, despite his cuteness, he would no doubt grow into the most awesome king ever. Because Prussia did _not_ want to leave the impression that his next king would be weak just because he was a cute little kid.  
Fritz looked up at the young woman with curious eyes. "You must be miss Hungary," he guessed, "aren't you, ma'am?"  
Hungary seemed just about ready to squeal at this, but she kept her cool and nodded. "I am. Nice to meet you, Frederick."  
"Fritz," the little prince corrected her, slightly uneasy. "O-only father calls me Frederick, and the servants and people father works with and mother also. So please, I'd rather be called Fritz."  
Prussia chuckled at this, then patted the boy's head affectionately. "Translation: 'Prussia calls me Fritz and all the other, more unawesome people here don't, so please be awesome like him and call me Fritz'."  
Fritz blushed at this and huffed softly, shuffling away from Prussia.  
But the Prussian just happilly bent down and picked him up, holding the crown prince in a death-grip hug. "Aw, come on, you know you love me!"  
Meanwhile, Fritz was squirming to free himself. "Air!" he choked out, his voice muffled by Prussia's coat. "I. Need. Air!" Prussia laughed and put him down again gently, and immediately Fritz walked out of his reach and looked at Holy Rome. "And you must be... the Holy Roman Empire?" He didn't sound too sure; confused, as though he couldn't believe a child who seemed to be not much older than him could be such an old empire. When Holy Rome nodded, he seemed awe-stricken for a moment. But then he looked up at Austria. "Then that means you're mr Austria. Nice to meet you at last." With admiration dripping from his voice, he added: "Prussia tells me you play the most beautiful music in the world."  
With a satisfied smirk spreading on his face and his dark blue eyes twinkling with mischief, Austria's gaze turned to Prussia then. "Does he now?"  
Embarassed, Prussia cleared his throat, feeling his face grow hot. Even more embarassed now, as he knew for a certainty that he was blushing now, he averted his gaze quickly. "Well," he mumbled, "it's about the only thing you're good at."  
Austria didn't buy it, and instead just smiled. "If you say so. Thank you, Prussia, it's a wonderful compliment." Hungary just giggled, and Holy Rome seemed amused, too. Fritz didn't really seem to get what was so funny about it, or why Prussia looked so embarassed. But, since he did pick up on the fact that his friend felt like that because of what he'd said, apparently, he quickly looked guilty.  
"Well then," Austria just said, turning to Fritz. He was still smirking a little, though thankfully he now distracted the others from Prussia's awkwardness again. "Would you like to hear me play something? I hope you have instruments here, though, I only brought a violin myself."  
Fritz nodded enthusiastically. "I have a flute! Prussia gave it to me."  
"Right, okay," Prussia then interrupted the boy before he could make this any more awkward for his kingdom. "That's enough now, Fritz, thank you." Then he turned to the other countries and told them to just follow him then; they'd go somewhere they could sit and talk for a moment. And when Fritz asked if he could come along, Prussia sighed and answered that, yes, he could. "But not right now, please. I'm sure your father wants you to study first."

Once alone with his guests, Prussia sighed and stood there, looking out the window for a moment. "So why're you here?" he asked flatly, dropping the act that he was happy to see them. Alone now, he could talk freely, and he'd make use of that fact. "Give me one good reason why all three of you have suddenly decided to 'grace' the Awesome Me with your presence."  
Hungary huffed slightly at this, sounding offended. "Well, it's been 10 years since I last saw you! And the same goes for Austria and Holy Rome. In fact, it's been ages since _anyone_ in the family last saw you," she added meaningfully.  
Prussia stared at her over his shoulder, narrowing his red eyes at this. "And why would you care?" he demanded with an edge to his voice. "You're not even part of _the family_."  
"Because we get the feeling you're avoiding us," Austria sighed, replying for Hungary then. "Avoiding _everyone_. Prussia, you can't just disappear like that and only pop up again when there's a war for you to fight."  
"I'm busy," Prussia retorted angrily, staring out the window again. Anything to not have to look at any of their faces now. He couldn't stand the obvious worry in their expressions. "I have work to do, and I'm helping to raise Fritz and..." He trailed off. That was about all he had to do nowadays, really; governmental work and helping to raise his crown prince. And the latter was something he couldn't even spend as much time on as he wanted, as the king didn't allow him to.  
"And...?" Austria urged him on, and Prussia sighed in response. "If that's the only things you're busy with, Prussia," the Austrian then continued, "let me tell you now, I lead a busier life than you do: running an empire, raising Bavaria, keeping up international relations. Just keeping track of the state of things in Europe is a job on its own already. And little Bavaria demands a lot of attention as well, he's only about 4 years old yet."  
"Ah, yes," Prussia then mumbled, glad to have found something to hopefully bring the conversation to another topic than himself. "How's the little critter doing nowadays?"  
It was Hungary who answered now: "He's doing quite fine, thank you," she said flatly. "But, Prussia, if you think you're getting out of this _that_ easily, you're mistaken."  
Gritting his teeth, Prussia turned around to face them now, glaring. But then his red gaze turned to Holy Rome, who sat beside Austria and didn't look nearly as accusing and worried as Austria and Hungary did. "And what about you, huh?" Prussia demanded his older brother. "Don't you have anything to add?"  
Holy Rome only sighed and met his gaze with a much calmer one than Prussia's own. "I just want to know my little brother's still all right," he answered. "And you seem healthy at least... that's good enough for me." With another sigh, the empire added under his breath: "Happy can come later, I suppose."  
"What was that?" Prussia snapped, growing tense. But just then, Fritz walked in, holding his flute. The boy flinched when he saw the anger that was etched in every inch of Prussia's expression, and the indignance of his guests over the albino's reaction to their visit.  
Nervous, the little human took a step back again. "W-what's going on here?" he squeaked. "Prussia? Should I... should I leave again?"  
The Prussian stared at him, only remembering to not glare at the child when he saw the boy flinch again the moment he met Prussia's gaze. Immediately the albino forced himself to relax again. "No, that won't be necessary," he sighed, beckoning Fritz to come closer. Tentatively the boy walked over to Prussia, who ruffled his hair when he was within reach. "Did you finish your studies for today, kid?"  
Fritz nodded, answering that he'd finished all of that before noon already.  
Prussia smiled. "Good boy. Now, I take it you want to play on your flute?" he added, nodding to the boy's wooden flute, which he was tightly clutching in his hands, revealing he still felt nervous.  
"I-if I may," Fritz just stammered.  
Austria nodded with a smile. "Of course you may. I, for one, would love to hear what you can do." Hungary and Holy Rome nodded, agreeing. Blushing a bit then, Fritz began playing the few pieces he knew by heart by now, and Prussia took this moment to sit down somewhere a little further away. Anything would be fine, so long as he didn't have to sit near the other three countries now. There he took the time he needed to relax a bit again, and tried to think of other things than his three guests. Eventually a servant came in, informing the five people that king Frederick William had to go to Berlin for business, and would be returning in the evening the next day. Little Fritz's eyes were shining when he heard this; he loved every moment he had away from his father's prying eyes and stone-hard fists. When the servant left again, Austria suggested he'd get his violin, so that he and the Prussian crown prince could play music together. Fritz seemed about to burst with excitement at that, and Prussia sighed. At this rate, the boy would grow to _like_ Austria sooner than hate him. _No matter,_ Prussia told himself then. _That's something I can change his mind on, no problem. I'll let him have his moment now..._

Flute and violin weren't the bes instruments together, not without other instruments to go with it, but Austria being Austria could make it work and turn it into something stunningly beautiful once again. He completely adapted his style and pace to that of Fritz, who seemed beyond happy at that moment. Holy Rome, Hungary and even Prussia just listened to the soothing music happilly. At some point, Prussia saw Holy Rome nudge Hungary from the corner of his eyes, and whisper something to her. She replied, too soft for the Prussian to follow, then giggled softly. A few minutes later, she got up and walked over to Prussia, smiling brightly. "Care to dance, Prussia?" she asked, all the earlier anger and worry disappearing from her voice and expression in a heartbeat. "Personally I would love to, but it would be a little hard for me to dance with Holy Rome, now wouldn't it?"  
Prussia just stared at Holy Rome then, narrowing his red eyes. His brother just smirked in response, eyes twinkling mischievously. _I know you, Prussia_ , he seemed to be saying. _You don't have to thank me._ Prussia gritted his teeth and willed his brother to be able to read the message in his own eyes now: _I would never thank you for this, little bastard._  
"Please?" Hungary insisted, and Prussia gave in.  
With a sigh, he got to his feet. "All right then, just for a bit."

Austria looked surprised and not too pleased when he saw Hungary and Prussia dancing together like that, which made the whole activity a million times more enjoyable to Prussia. But then the Austrian just smiled and continued playing his violin as skillfully and effortlessly as ever. Fritz just smirked when he saw Prussia like that, waltzing with Hungary, and the Prussian gritted his teeth at this. _Don't you dare laugh, kid._  
Prussia hadn't danced in over 20 years by then, and that was plain to see. Thankfully, Hungary wasn't the best dancer either, so Prussia's awkward movements didn't stand out too much. But against all odds, after a few minutes, he began to enjoy himself, just by seeing Hungary happy and enjoying herself. She smiled up at him, giggling when he nearly stumbled at one point and then bumping into him herself because of it. Eventually, though he didn't know how it happened, it was Hungary who stumbled and fell against Prussia, who was thrown off balance by her like that and fell backwards onto the floor with Hungary on top of him. Her first reaction was to start laughing like it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen, Prussia's was to blush awkwardly until his face looked as red as his eyes. His heart pounding painfully in his chest, Prussia then realised the music had stopped and Austria, Holy Rome and Fritz were staring at the two of them now, all three snickering as well. His heart pounding in his throat by now, Prussia sat up and gently pushed Hungary off him again, after which he got to his feet quickly.  
"I hope that was the end of this unawesome dancing shit?" he just commented flatly, turning away from everyone else and trying to control his breath. Now why was he feeling shaky and unawesome like this? His heart was still racing, his fingers trembling lightly and his throat felt tight. And though he told himself he didn't have a clue as to why he suddenly felt like that, when he looked at Hungary over his shoulder, for just a moment, he didn't see a girl with brown hair and green eyes staring at him, but clear blue ones instead, and his stomach twisted painfully. Quickly he tore his gaze away from her again. _Brand..._  
"Prussia?" came Hungary's voice tentatively, robbing the Prussian from his breath altogether. "Are you all right?"  
"S-sure," Prussia answered softly, wishing he could sound more convincing. He just knew he had to get out of there quickly now. And so he walked out of the room determinedly, not looking back at any of them. "Y-you just... go on if you want, I'll get someone to bring water here or something..." Then when he turned around the corner and was out of their sight, he broke into a run. Without thinking, he ran out of the house and into the trees that grew near the house, forming a small grove. Only there was he able to sit down and catch his breath again. This was one of the reasons why he hadn't wanted them to come: he had known for a certainty that with them around, somehow, he would end up digging up painful memories sooner or later. He sat there now, trying to drive out those memories again, and pulled his knees up to his chest. He rested his arms and chin on them, and with a sigh, he closed his eyes.

* * *

That night, Holy Rome was wandering through the hallways of Konigs Wusterhausen, restless. Once again he couldn't sleep. It was weird nowadays; he was nearly 1000 years old, and though he had the body of a pre-teen still, he had never felt closer to his real age than he had in the past few months. By now he was waiting for death. He didn't know why he was still in this world, when Austria was considered to be the Holy Roman Empire more than himself now, and said empire was really only an empire in name anymore. He didn't mind being alive much so long as he still was, but he also knew that when death came to claim him, he would come willingly. Really the only thing that could still annoy him now were these awful, sleepless nights.  
Suddenly he wondered how Prussia was doing. After what happened in the afternoon, he feared his younger brother was no better off than him. Quietly, Holy Rome made his way over to Prussia's room, and pressed his ear against the door to see if he could pick up any sounds. And though it was very soft, eventually he did hear mumbling. With a deep sigh, he listened to what he had known and feared he would hear now.  
"...20 years, Brand. So many years and I haven't seen you once. Why?" Prussia sounded absolutely heartbroken, which tore at Holy Rome's heart as well. He could've known that his younger brother wasn't quite over the loss of Brandenburg yet, not when it had happened so suddenly, without warning and possibly without a goodbye. Holy Rome had no idea if Prussia had found her dead like they had, or if she'd been alive when he'd found her. Prussia had never talked about it, and Holy Rome didn't want to ask. For now, he just silently listened to Prussia's half-asleep mumbling. "Is it because of what I did? Because if it is, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Brand, I am!" _Sorry for what?_ Holy Rome wondered. _This afternoon? Surely that's nothing to worry about, Brandenburg herself would've rolled over the floor laughing just seeing his face then!_ "I know it was wrong, but I -I couldn't think straight then! Surely you understand, Brand? Right?" But somehow Holy Rome got the feeling that this wasn't about Prussia's little... 'accident' with Hungary that afternoon. Completely unvoluntarily, the empire remembered a single moment on the day of the Battle of Blindheim, after Savoy had come to inform them all that not only Brandenburg, but also Bavaria had been killed. The way Prussia had looked at him... As he was comforting Austria over the loss of Bavaria, the albino's red eyes had gleamed with a dark satisfaction. And that memory combined with Prussia's word now brought a sudden realisation to Holy Rome that got his mind reeling and his stomach churning. He felt sick to the core for a moment, but then, when he heard a muffled sob coming from inside Prussia's bedroom, he relaxed himself again. He was worrying over nothing. When he heard his younger brother softly sobbing again, he almost just walked in to comfort him. But he knew that, on the off chance that Prussia was actually fully awake now, the kingdom would not appreciate any interference from anyone now. So the Holy Roman Empire quietly made his way back over to his bed, and flopped back down in it, closing his eyes. He felt sorry for Prussia; from what Holy Rome could gather, Prussia had never taken the time to grieve for Brandenburg, and as happy and carefree as he acted during the day, deep down he was still miserable and lonely. Hopefully Prussia would allow himself to properly grieve sometime soon, and maybe he could _finally_ feel happier again once he'd done so.

* * *

Prussia wasn't there the next morning when all three other countries were already having breakfast together with a still sleepy Fritz and his sisters. The two youngest children in the family, who were 2 and 1 years old, were allowed to still sleep.  
Everything went just fine then, the countries practically being interrogated by the young Prussian girls, who were all lectured by their eldest sister, 15-year-old Frederike Wilhelmine, for being so curious and sometimes even blunt. But of course, there would be something to ruin the morning. A servant came in to inform everyone that king Frederick William would return home shortly, as his business in Berlin had been settled sooner than expected.  
Fritz flinched when the human walked out again, and stared down at his breakfast solemnly. "I'll go wake Prussia, then," he mumbled softly, sounding somewhat sad that his father would be returning home already. He was just about to get up when Hungary interrupted him.  
"Why?" she asked. "If he's still asleep, let him. Surely Prussia deserves a good sleep-in as well sometime?"  
Fritz nodded and mumbled something, and Frederike Wilhelmine sighed. "He does," the teenager answered softly. "But my little brother's right: if father is coming back soon, Prussia had better be awake by then."  
The three countries exchanged a glance at this. What nonsense was that? The human must be able to see that he might well be close to overworking his kingdom, right? Because according to what the children here said, Prussia was often tired and had to be woken up by others nearly every single morning, which to Hungary and Holy Rome at least was a clear sign that, though healthy and doing well, the Prussian was simply exhausted. He liked sleeping in, yes, but he'd never had trouble getting up before.  
Fritz had just gotten to his feet, when Hungary stood up quickly. "Sit down, Fritz, please," she told the child, who stared at her wide-eyed. "I'll get him," Hungary just promised with a warm smile in his direction. "You've hardly touched your breakfast yet, boy; eat a bit first, I'll wake Prussia."  
Fritz looked like he wasnted to protest, but said nothing and sat down again, after which Hungary quickly made her way over to Prussia's bedroom. She knocked on the door once to check if maybe he was awake already, but when she got no response, she opened the door and went inside.  
Prussia lay sprawled across his bed, only half under the covers, and he shivered a bit. Hungary smiled at this. The little idiot, still getting himself into the most awkward positions possible in his sleep. Amused, she walked over to his side, her smile fading a bit when her eyes fell on the pale, scarred skin on his back and shoulders. She had plenty of scars herself, of course, but it was always different to see someone else with a marred skin like that. With a sigh, she pulled the covers up over his shoulders, waiting for him to stop shivering before she would wake him. He deserved to at least feel comfortable when woken up like that.  
But despite the cold, he looked peaceful, which warmed her heart. They had their fights, but Prussia was still a good friend to her. And... a bit like a little brother, too, sometimes. He liked to think he was awesome and all, and given, sometimes he was, but most of the time he was just clumsy and awkward. Well, for all Hungary had ever seen that is.  
When Prussia didn't even twitch, she knelt down next to him and placed her hand over his, gently shaking it. "Wake up, silly," she whispered to him. "Hey, come on now, Prussia. Your king will be home soon... Apparently that's your cue to wake up, according to Fritz and the girls. Well, sleepy-head? You coming?"  
Prussia shifted at this, frowning in his sleep, and for a moment Hungary thought he would just turn over and she would have to wake him the way she had done when they were children. And that might be a little too loud for now, not to mention the last time she'd done that Prussia had instantly punched her in the face upon waking up, followed by a tidal wave of apologies; he hadn't been fully awake yet when he'd done that. But much to Hungary's surprise, instead, Prussia tried to hold her hand in his sleep, still frowning. He grumbled a few things, most of which Hungary couldn't hear. But when she did hear something she recognised as a word, her heart broke. "...Brand..."  
 _Oh, hell, no,_ she thought, getting panicky. _Don't tell me he thinks I'm Brandenburg!_ He was clearly dreaming now, and Hungary didn't want him to be disappointed when he woke up, seeing Hungary instead of his dearly beloved cousin. When Prussia said Brandenburg's name again, Hungary just leaned down to him and softly kissed his cheek. "It's okay, Gil," she whispered to him, using his human nickname. It was something that probably only she did, a habit that had stayed after their childhood together. "You can just stay in bed, I'll tell the others not to wake you." If he was dreaming about Brandenburg now, there was no way she could pull him out of his dream. She just honestly couldn't do it. He deserved this more than anything. Gently stroking his hair for a moment, she got up again and left the room as silently as she could. King Frederick William would just have to wait a bit if he wanted Prussia to work again today; Hungary wouldn't allow anyone to disturb him now, not like this.

The children had all reacted shocked when Hungary came back down again without Prussia, and Fritz and two of his sisters still wanted to go and wake him themselves. But once again, Frederike Wilhelmine sighed. "Let him, you three," she told her siblings. "It seems our guests just need to figure it out at some point."  
Fritz stared at his sister with wide, indignant eyes. "And just let Prussia be-?"  
"Prussia can handle himself," the teenager insisted with a stare in her brother's direction. "You know he can. And besides, if what miss Hungary said is true, he deserves his rest for as long as he can still have it."  
Fritz didn't look happy, but he and his two little sisters sat back down again, staring at the table sadly.  
Hungary thought they were overreacting, until the king returned home, greeted his children and then proceeded to ask where Prussia was.  
None of the humans dared to answer, so Hungary did it for them. "He's still asleep, Your Majesty," she said calmly. "He's had a rough night, so I request you let him sleep a little long-"  
" _Still asleep?_ " the king demanded angrily, eyes narrowed in rage which made Hungary flinch. "The little lazy bastard! Thinks he can do whatever he wants when I'm not home, does he now?" He left quickly then, and all his children stared after him with fear in their eyes.  
"This is why you should've just woken Prussia," Fritz said in a tiny voice.  
Austria was just about to ask what he meant with that, when suddenly there was a loud yelp coming from the direction of the bedrooms, sounding hurt. And it was undoubtedly Prussia's voice. Austria got up immediately, worry evident in every single one of his features, but Frederike Wilhelmine told him it would be wise not to go up there.  
Fritz sighed and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt a bit, nervous. "Father likes to hit people..." he whispered, but his words dropped like a bomb in the room.  
Of course he did! Hungary immediately felt sorry. It explained why the children all looked so nervous when their father was around, why Prussia had spoken so badly about his leader the day before, why little Fritz had only really looked happy to be with his kingdom and his guests after he'd heard his father would leave for a day.  
She flinched now when she heard a loud thump, and Prussia screamed again. And though she couldn't hear the words, she could also hear the king yelling at him. It went on for a little while, and by the end of it, silent tears were rolling down Hungary's face. Austria just silently held her hand, also waiting for it to end. Holy Rome looked like he felt sick listening to his little brother being beaten up like that for simply oversleeping.  
King Frederick William didn't show up anymore after that, but a few minutes later, Prussia did, with a slight limp and a haunted look in his red eyes. "Sorry that I'm late," he rasped, voice just barely above a whisper. Then he silently sat down as well, the only sound he made being a sharp intake of air when he seemed to make the wrong movement and hurt himself doing so. After that he didn't say a word until Fritz tentatively started a conversation with him. The little boy seemed to brighten up Prussia's mood again, like he had the day before, and to Hungary the boy looked like a gift from the heavens just then. It seemed like he was here solely to help Prussia deal with all the shit he was feeling all the time, and Prussia most likely did the same for him. They were helping each other through the days, weeks, years, and Hungary guessed Prussia would've been a lot more miserable without Fritz.  
Hungary wanted nothing more than to talk to Prussia now, too, apologise for her mistake and ask him if he was all right. But she knew that, when he was awake at least, his attitude would always get the better of him, and she would never get a clear answer out of him. She had always understood her friend to the point that she knew he wore masks nearly all day long, but she had never succeeded in seeing exactly what lay under them. And she doubted she ever would.

* * *

"You have to do something about that bastard!" Hungary complained to Holy Rome later that day, when the trio got time alone away from Prussia, who was busy with work now. Holy Rome sighed as the young woman ranted about Frederick William's cruelty towards his kingdom. "I mean, did you see the bruises on his neck? He could've broken his neck for all we know, and then where would Prussia be, huh? Do you think that might be enough to kill our kind?" She shuddered at the thought.  
But Holy Rome shook his head. "Temper not accounted for, Frederick William is a fine monarch," he reasoned with Hungary, who immediately protested against this. Holy Rome just raised his hand for her to be silent again, and she indignantly shut her mouth and stared down at him. "He's just like that, Hungary," the empire went on with a cold blue stare in the Hungarian's direction. "But he is a good king. Not exactly benevolent, but good. And you know as well as I do that if things go to far to Prussia's liking, he will fight back, even if it _is_ his king we're talking about."  
"Yes, but..." Hungary wanted to protest, but she was lost for words then and trailed off again.  
Much to the surprise of both Hungary and Holy Rome, Austria protested more against his cousin now than Hungary did. "This is insanity, Ludwig," the Austrian said angrily, using the human name Holy Rome had picked for himself only decades ago, something he only ever did as a sign that he was being deadly serious. "We cannot leave Prussia here with that maniac and you know it."  
"That man is not a maniac, Roderich," Holy Rome retorted, narrowing his eyes angrily and going along with Austria in using human names now. "And you _know_ that Prussia is much happier here with Fritz than he would be anywhere else, despite Frederick William's temper with the both of them. Have you even looked at those two?" His gaze softened a bit again, and he sighed. "There were times yesterday and today that I would've believed it if you told me that boy is the reincarnation of Brandenburg. Her spirit at least, that is, I know that he's as human as can be. And I know that what I said just now is impossible," he added to Hungary when the younger country looked to be about to protest. "But you see it too, don't you? Those two are all they need for each other to get through this situation. Prussia wouldn't appreciate our help: he'd see it as an assault on his 'awesomeness' and his dignity as a kingdom. And when the time comes that Frederick William dies and Fritz succeeds the throne of Prussia, Prussia will flourish, you'll see."  
Austria and Hungary were silent for a moment, but then Austria sighed. "I suppose you're right," he mumbled. "Let's not forget it's Prussia we're talking about."  
Hungary nodded then, her mood a million times brighter again. "If there's one thing I know about Gil," she said, "it's that he's stubborn enough to make it through anything life throws his way, and come out stronger. I'm certain that, soon enough, he'll really be happy once again." That said, she wrapped her arms around Austria's shoulders and kissed him. "Don't you think, Austria?"  
"Right."  
Holy Rome looked at the two a little longer, then turned away. _You're absolutely right, Hungary,_ he thought. _But just wait until he find out about you and Austria... That can go one of two ways: either he'll be sulking once again, or..._ He shuddered as his realisation of the night before made its way back into his mind, the one he tried to deny with all his heart and sould. But now, thinking about what Prussia had been like in the first years after Brandenburg's death, he feared he had been right after all.  
 _...Or he'll give you both the same treatment he did Bavaria..._

* * *

 **So yeah, not so much Prussia in the latter half of the chapter, but Hungary, Austria and Holy Rome (I have hereby decided to call them the Imperial Trio) are all right too... aren't they?**

 **And unfortunately, no, Holy Rome won't be helping out with the anger management issues Frederick William has. Since the man is no king within the Holy Roman Empire's borders, he has no influence on his kingship.**

 **I hope you liked the chapter, and thanks for reading!  
(Hm. Von Katte might appear in the next chapter... poor man, and poor Fritz.)**


	32. Chapter 32

**I'm back again with another chapter!**

 **TheOldKaiser, Abc and Tius, thanks for the lovely reviews!  
And about Holy Rome's name... well, Germany had to have gotten his from somewhere as well, right? Details will come later.  
Aaaand Holy Rome's not stupid. Far from. Kesesese...**

 **Now about this one, if you don't like it, I'm sorry and don't worry, it'll only be a minor thing in future chapters. If it will be there at all (I suck at planning ahead, though I must say, I do have some scenes for Hope to Die already... which is _far_ ahead. I guess CYH will go for 50+ chapters in the end or so, definitely longer than Rising and Trouble)**

 **Well, I hope you like it anyway, and if you don't, just remember what I said.**

* * *

 _13 February 1729_

 _Yesterday evening was... was weird. Just..._  
 _Just weird._  
 _I mean, I only just remembered the majority of yesterday evening, or what I think is the majority anyway. I was quite drunk, I must now admit, Fritz was right about that in the end._  
 _But trust me when I say that_ _the Awesome Me was_ _ **not**_ _the weird one_ _. Oh no, not me. I'm too awesome to act weird like that. The one who acted really weird was..._  
 _Well, Fritz. And he wasn't even drunk. Well, tipsy maybe. Yes, that must have been it. My awesome prince was just a little tipsy, that explains everything. Or maybe he was drunk, too, just not as much as I was. That would explain everything even better!_  
 _I will not go into detail here, as I fear someone might read this someday and that would be the most unawesome thing to ever happen in my life. I will remain awesome and stay silent about this for the rest of my eternity..._

It was the evening of 12 February 1729. King Frederick William had received a visit from the king of Poland and elector of Saxony, and in the evening the three countries had a chance to talk and catch up a little, and naturally Fritz was there also, on orders of his father, in order to get to know his future enemies or allies ("That depends completely on your choices, boy") better before he would become king after his father's passing in the future. And naturally there was some alcohol involved, simply because Prussia had wished it so. He seriously could not hold a conversation with Poland these days without liquor, or he'd end up punching the man in the face. And his king would not appreciate that.  
Poland seemed grateful for the alcohol as well, mainly for the same reasons as Prussia did. After Prussia had claimed independence from him, there had been a certain uncomfortable tension in the air whenever the two even saw each other. "And you never even go to Royal Prussia anymore!" Poland complained at one point. "What, have you completely forgotten about your people there? There still isn't a seperate incarnation for Royal Prussia, y'know, so that is still, like, part of you and all." He huffed then and looked away defiantly. "So you also still totally belong to me. I own you, Prussia. Act like it."  
"You don't 'totally' own me, lil' shit," Prussia retorted, taking another swig of his wine. He'd rather had beer, but wine had unfortunately been the only thing available today. "You own half of me. No, not half... about..." He was silent for a moment, trying to picture his land as the Kingdom of Prussia on a map with his Royal Prussia part next to it. "Er... a third of me? Hell, I don't know... But with the addition of Brandenburg, the Kingdom of Prussia is _waaaayyy_ bigger than Royal Prussia." He snickered then. "And don't worry, Polly, one day I'll be so damn awesome I'll take back _all_ of my land from you!"  
Fritz looked at Saxony at this, the only other person who was still sober, and mouthed: "Polly?" Saxony just shrugged; he didn't know when his little brother had started using that nickname, if this wasn't the very first time in the first place. Fritz sighed as he looked at his kingdom. "They're drunk, aren't they?" he mumbled.  
Saxony chuckled. "Oh, yes, absolutely. Just sit back and watch the show, Your Highness, this should be good."  
Poland was too wasted to even react to being called 'Polly' by his former fief. Instead, he complained some more about what a disloyal little traitor Prussia was. "I can't believe I once totally thought you were loyal and hardworking!" he muttered. "You're a backstabbing little shit, that's what you are."  
"Blah blah, heard that one before," Prussia just sighed, pinching the bridge if his nose between two fingers. Just now he felt a massive headache coming on, and he blamed it on Poland. Everyone else would of course blame it on the alcohol, but he simply needed a reason to be angry with the Polish kingdom. "You know, you're so unawesomely _boring_ , Polly, such a lack of _creativity_ , that it's making my head hurt."  
"You're a little bastard."  
"You're getting so monotonous, I could fall asleep just listening to you."  
"Foul, treacherous-"  
Now Prussia just yawned, probably on purpose. But it angered Poland enough to have the blond kingdom jumping up from his chair and tackling Prussia, toppling the albino's chair backward and landing on top of his former fief like that. The two then proceeded to pummel each other with their fists until both Saxony and Fritz jumped up.  
"All right, all right!" Saxony said loudly, trying to catch their attention. "Party's over, guys! Prussia, let go of- _Poland_ , don't you dare-!" He sighed then, and turned to Fritz. "Can you help me untangle them? I'll take Poland away, you please bring Prussia to his room or something. He really needs to sleep off the booze." The 17-year-old nodded, and together with Saxony managed to get Prussia and Poland off each other again after a few minutes of struggling. They were both pretty darn strong. The biggest struggle was Fritz pulling Prussia away, as the albino was much stronger than him. Saxony didn't have too much trouble with Poland, but when he then tried to help Fritz with Prussia, Poland would attack the albino kingdom again, so in the end it took them quite a while. Saxony and Fritz said goodbye to each other more politely than Poland and Prussia did, who were still cursing at one another. Then the Saxon led Poland away, leaving Prussia to be pulled to his bedroom by Fritz.

Fritz kept on supporting Prussia all the way to his room for two reasons, one being that he'd sprained his ankle quite badly when Poland had tackled him like that, the other being the alcohol doing its job on his sense of balance. Not that Prussia would ever admit to that, of course, not until he was sober again. Fritz just seemed glad that he and Prussia were of pretty much the same physical age now, and so he had no trouble practically carrying the Prussian.  
"Fuckin' hell," Prussia complained as he tried putting more pressure on his foot, but he flinched and just continued on limping. "The little bastard's weak as a little worm, but he sure took me by surprise there. Unawesome little shit..."  
Fritz just sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, you could've seen it coming, actually," he told his friend. "You were more or less provoking him... I know I wouldn't have let it slide when someone treated me like that."  
"And then what would you've done, eh?" Prussia slurred, chuckling for a moment. "Whacked 'em over the head with your flute? Read one of your ' _petits_ ' French poems to 'em?"  
This earned him a smack over the back of his head from Fritz. "Be quiet," the prince snapped. "That is _not_ funny Prussia, not at all." But Prussia just laughed anyway, apparently thinking it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard himself, and the crown prince sighed. He'd have to make a mental note of not allowing Prussia anywhere near alcohol the coming few weeks.  
The kingdom then sniffed a bit, grimacing afterwards when that made him swallow a bit of blood. There was a steady trickle of the red liquid coming from his nose, and his lip was split in two places as well. "I hate him," he complained softly. "Stupid Polly..."  
"Yes, I'm pretty sure you'll have a black eye in the morning," Fritz just sighed, opening the bedroom door for him and then gently pulling Prussia inside, closing the door behind them. "Consider yourself lucky: if you have any visible injuries already, father might just consider it enough already and he won't punish you further himself." He then pushed Prussia onto his bed, and went off again to get water to clean the blood off his friend's face.  
Prussia just stared at him as he did so, huffing softly when the human sat down in front of him and carefully dabbed at his lips with a wet cloth. "I'm awesome enough to do this myself," he grumbled, though in truth he only didn't want this because it hurt, feeling like it split his lip deeper yet. "Stop it Fritz. Stop it. Seriously, stop it."  
"No," Fritz replied softly to every 'stop it' Prussia threw his way. He had a look of pure concentration on his face as he worked, then when Prussia cringed at one point he figured he was probably hurting the drunk country, and tried to be even more gentle. Prussia visibly relaxed at this, and Fritz smiled. "Better now?" he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.  
Prussia just hummed and shrugged. There was no denying it, that really did feel better. He closed his eyes when Fritz told him to, and got the same wet cloth gently pressed against the left side of his face then, which already felt swollen. He would definitely have a black eye in the morning, Poland had a mean punch when drunk. The cold made it feel a lot better, and he completely relaxed, letting it ease the pain in his face until it felt numb with cold.  
It was because his face had gotten semi-numb like that, that Prussia didn't feel it too well when Fritz moved the cloth away again. He half expected the prince to just clean it out, refresh the water, then press it to Prussia's face again, but instead he got something else entirely.  
The Prussian was stunned for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what it was he felt, but by the time he did Fritz had already moved away again, drawing the back of his hand over his own lips, rubbing off some of Prussia's blood. "Ugh... tastes nasty..." he mumbled under his breath, to himself clearly, but it made Prussia shove out of his way in a heartbeat.  
"Did you just-?" he stammered, hoping it was the alcohol doing this to his mind now. He had to admit, he felt a little tipsy, so it wouldn't surprise him if it was. "You just- Did you- Me..."  
Fritz looked at him again, innocently staring him in the eyes. "Yes, Prussia?" he asked, with a tone as if nothing had happened at all. "What is it?"  
The albino took a deep breath then, hoping that would help him get the word over his lips now. "You _kissed_ me," he choked out, half accusingly, half questioningly. "Why the hell did you _kiss_ me?"  
Fritz just shrugged. "Why? Didn't like it?"  
"I didn't say that," Prussia replied instantly, internally slapping himself then. _What am I saying?!_ "Are you drunk?"  
Fritz laughed softly and shook his head. "No, Prussia, _you're_ drunk. But you didn't imagine it, don't worry."  
"Then... then _why?_ "  
"Are you asking me why people kiss other people?" Fritz then asked, tipping his head to one side. "Because I cannot answer that, to be honest. Because I felt like it, I guess? I've been wanting to try it for a year now. Longer, to be honest with you." He smiled then and blushed lightly. "And I must admit, it did not disappoint... Except for the blood, that didn't taste too nice."  
Prussia just stared at him, dumbfounded. It appeared that some of what Frederick William claimed about his son was true after all, then. He _did_ have some... 'female' tendencies. Now that he thought about it, Prussia had never seen his crown prince showing any interest in women, which was unusual for a 17-year-old. Not impossible, naturally. Just unusual.  
And he always did seem very close to one of his friends, for example, the lieutenant Hans Hermann von Katte. Very, _very_ close, to the point that some people made jokes about it.  
Maybe the jokes were true.  
The kingdom felt dizzy for a moment, and involuntarily, his mind went to Brandenburg again. _I'm sorry, Brand,_ he told her in silence. _This wasn't me, you know that, right? This was all Fritz._  
Fritz just sighed and turned away slightly, staring at the wall. "Well, I'm sorry, anyway," he mumbled to Prussia, who still stared at him wide-eyed. Then the prince looked at him sideways, a disappointed gleam in his eyes. "You're... probably not into men, are you?"  
That question put Prussia's mind on hold for a moment, and he cringed inwardly. _I've had too much alcohol for this...!_ he wanted to complain, but once again, his tongue didn't listen to his mind and just said what it wanted. "I, er... I'm not... sure..." _'Not sure'?_ Prussia scolded himself, mind reeling. _What kind of bullshit is that? You've had Brandenburg and Hungary, I think that's a nice indication already. So why the hell don't I just say 'no, I'm not'?_ Well, the only answer to that was that, right now, he just honestly wasn't sure. Blame the alcohol. And, also, blame Fritz, because he was doing a very good job on confusing his kingdom right now.  
Fritz stared at him a little longer, then burst out laughing. "You really need to sleep off the alcohol, Prussia," he told him, getting up from the bed and pushing the stunned, confused Prussian onto his back, then pulled the covers over his shoulders with a gentle pat on the albino's head. "And then, when you've made up your mind, I'd love to hear your conclusion. Goodnight, Prussia."

 _...So yeah. I don't know if I want to run into Fritz today. Or ever._  
 _Because I still don't know the answer if he's unawesome enough to ask me again when he sees me._

* * *

The rest of the day, Prussia was a bit distracted. Well, 'a bit' is what he would say. 'Staring into space constantly' is how others eventually described it. Thankfully for him, Fritz was busy with his education all day, so Prussia had no chance of running into him until the evening, by which time he had decided to lock himself up in his room and think about more awesome stuff than the unawesome crap that Fritz did the evening before.  
Which, Prussia had to admit, hadn't been quite as unawesome as he wanted it to be.  
That didn't mean he was free of nosy brothers as well, though. When he got a break to have lunch, Prussia went outside for a bit, and much to his dismay, he was followed by Saxony then, who had gotten it in his stubborn head to act brotherly for once.  
"So, little bugger," the Saxon said as he caught up with Prussia and walked beside him. The young man grimaced a bit when he saw the dark bruises on Prussia's face which Poland had left the evening before, but didn't say a word about those. Instead, he acted like his happy-go-lucky self again, like he hadn't had in ages. "What's on your mind?"  
Prussia sighed and glanced up at him through narrowed eyes. "Why do you care?"  
"Oh, I don't know," Saxony replied, shrugging before staring up at the sky with twinkling brown eyes. "Maybe because my little brother isn't his usual so-called 'awesome' self today? Do the bruises and cuts hurt _that_ much? It's not like you to act like this."  
" _No_ ," Prussia retorted, rolling his eyes. "I mean, yeah, my face hurts quite a bit, but I would _never_ complain about _pain._ I'm more awesome than that, thank you very much." He wanted to keep it at that, really, but naturally, Saxony wouldn't let him.  
"Hey, kid," the older country just insisted, staring at Prussia now, not even smiling anymore. "I know I've been a lousy brother for... well, since forever, really, but you do know you can talk to me, right?" He waited until Prussia stared up at him again with a questioning gaze, as if he didn't believe his ears just now. Then Saxony just repeated: "So what _is_ bothering you, then?"  
"What is it with you people?!" Prussia exclaimed suddenly. He couldn't very well explain it, but the way Saxony acted now just pissed him off. Any other day or situation that his brother decided he wanted to give being a brother a real try for once, he would've been all right with it. But not today, for some reason, and not like this. "Honestly, I don't get any of you anymore! Can't you just leave me alone, for God's sake?!" He stomped off then, but Saxony caught up to him again soon, and grabbed him by the arms to stop him. So he just spun around and blew up in rage for a moment, something he felt he'd needed for many years now. "Really, just stop it, all of you! It's not because I'm alone now that you suddenly have to treat me like a goddamn baby all the time!"  
"What do you mean?" Saxony just asked, confused and taken aback by this.  
Prussia just went on, still angry. "You know damn well what I mean, Saxony! Everyone has been like this for a quarter of a century already. Ever since Brandenburg was killed, every single one of you has suddenly begun _caring_ about me when I'm acting off. Just like that! Do you know how weird it is?" The Prussian had had this weighing on his chest for ages now, and he was glad he could finally get it off. "It's like you don't trust me to take care of myself now that Brandenburg isn't here anymore. I thought I had made it clear enough, I am awesomeness incarnated and I don't need you sticking your noses into my business, especially not if it's because you suddenly feel _sorry_ for me. None of you have ever cared before, do you realise? I was always the outsider in this family, and then _one_ person dies and suddenly you all care. I don't want your bullshit!"  
Saxony looked angry, but he didn't comment on anything Prussia said for as long as the albino was talking. When he appeared to be done with his rant, he just calmly asked: "You feeling better now?"  
" _No._ "  
"Then tell me what's wrong, because this wasn't it." Saxony just grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off into the little grove near Konigs Wusterhaussen, away from any prying eyes or ears, hoping that would help Prussia loosen up a bit again and talk. Under the cover of the trees, the Saxon just sighed and looked his little brother in the eyes. "Now spill it out already, little prick, because I don't have the patience for any more of your anger issues."  
Prussia just huffed and looked away, but he could feel his brother's brown gaze burning into his skin, and as his eyes fell on the window to the room where he knew Fritz was having his lessons now, probably together with Von Katte again, he sighed. Just that sight, combined with memories of the night before and his own confusion, got his stomach to do a nice little somersault and made him dizzy once again. Maybe Saxony was right, and he should just talk. Surely Saxony would understand... And besides, this was the one man with whom he knew for a certainty that he was going to be laughed at no matter what he said, so it couldn't get any worse if he told the truth than if it was a lie he told him.  
"Well, I..." he began, but trailed off again. This was really a topic for which he had to think before he started talking, because otherwise he'd only talk gibberish at first. So he thought about his words, took a deep breath, and started again. "It's something I'd really rather not discuss," he began. "Just remember that, whatever I will tell you next, I am still the most awesome person on this planet and will always be, all right? Now..." He stopped, mulled it over one last time, then just decided to 'spill it out', as Saxony had said. "I'm beginning to think I might not, ah, b-be into _only_ women." Yeah. That was the right way to put it, wasn't it?  
Saxony stared at him in silence, wide-eyed, and Prussia was just waiting for the laughter. Still, he cringed when that laughter finally came. The words that came with it, though, were totally unexpected. "Seriously, Prussia? _That's it?_ Just that?" Saxony doubled over with laughter now, and when he finally fell more or less silent again, had to wipe tears from his eyes. He kept on chuckling in between words when he spoke again. "Prussia, that's not... You shouldn't worry about that. Well, maybe you _should_ , if you only just figured it out, I mean-"  
"Figured what out?"  
"That there are practically _no_ countries on this whole planet who _don't_ look to both genders?" Saxony was still laughing a bit, and Prussia thought he'd never stop. Still, at this, the albino was suddenly more interested in what his brother had to say. "I mean, sure, we have _preferences,_ but generally we just don't give a shit what we end up with. That's because our leaders have the liberty to marry us off to whomever they please, it would be kinda shitty for us if we _didn't_ , well, you know..." That was about the moment he finally _really_ stopped laughing, and he patted Prussia on the head then. "Oh, good, I thought it was something serious you had on your mind. Seriously, Prussia, you may nearly be an adult by body, sometimes you're still _such a child._ You really do worry about the silliest things."  
Grateful as he was for the information and the knowledge that he was still sane by nation standards, that his worries were being passed off as unimportant and even _silly_ was something Prussia just did not appreciate at all. Still, he managed to only huff and mutter under his breath. He didn't feel like blowing up over things again this time.  
"So who's the unlucky guy?" Saxony then asked, which did earn him an unfriendly shove from Prussia. But then the albino just sighed again and answered that there was nothing definitive yet. It was just something that had happened which had gotten him a little confused with himself. So Saxony tried rephrasing it: "Okay then, who's the guy who made you question yourself like this?"  
Prussia really didn't want to answer that, but he decided that he'd given away so much personal information already by now, he might as well just say it. "Uhm... well... Fritz."  
" _Frederick II?_ " Saxony sounded shocked for the first time now, and Prussia stared at him, afraid that he'd done something terribly wrong this time. Saxony didn't even laugh about it, so it must be bad. " _Well_... er..." The Saxon didn't seem to sure what to say to that, but eventually he patted Prussia on the back. "You're fucked." And with that, he promptly walked away and didn't react anymore when Prussia called to him to ask what he meant, ran after him or anything. He just left his little brother there, in a state worse than before. If not even Saxony could laugh about it, it must be horrible.  
 _For heaven's sake, Fritz, you little jerk! Now look what you've done to the Awesome Me!_

* * *

Thankfully, Fritz never mentioned it again, and so neither did Prussia. Soon enough life went on as usual, and Prussia at least had practically forgotten about the incident by summer. Saxony had never said anything, either, which Prussia was grateful for. His brother was just the person to blab it all out to someone important, like the Prussian king for example, and then Prussia would be in a world of trouble. And so would Fritz. This time, the Saxon had the sense to keep his mouth shut, though he did smirk a lot the next time he saw Prussia talking to Fritz, near the end of autumn that year.  
During the course of 1729, however, Fritz began spending increasingly less time with Prussia than before, which got the Prussian worried. Was it _still_ because of their little incident that one evening? Surely not, otherwise the prince would've said something about it, Prussia was certain of that. But when the kingdom noticed how much closer Fritz became to his friend, Katte, he realised why Fritz was ignoring Prussia sometimes and why he had never spoken of his mistake ever again.  
Much to his own surprise, Prussia felt a twinge of jealousy at that. _So that's why you never cared to bring it up again,_ he thought bitterly one afternoon, when the crown prince was still talking to the lieutenant long after their lessons together had ended. _You don't need me anymore, isn't it?_ He didn't want to see it as jealousy, obviously, but he knew it was. Not because Fritz most likely saw that Katte as more than a friend, because Prussia didn't give a shit about that, no way. What he hated was how Fritz seemed to have forgotten about him altogether after a few months. Considering how close he had been with the prince all Fritz's life so far, Prussia had just thought their friendship would've been more important to the human than this. _Cast aside and replaced by a mere human,_ he grumbled to himself nearly every day. _That is no way to treat the Awesome Me, who's been caring for you and supporting you all your life._

But he had never felt as angry at Fritz as he did in early August 1730.  
It started in the early morning of 5 August, when Prussia was woken roughly before dawn and informed that Fritz had been arrested mere hours before then, and suspected of desertion and thus treason. They had been travelling then, and staying in the town of Steinsfurt. Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, Fritz had tried to flee to England, but his plans had been uncovered before then and he had been arrested before even leaving Steinsfurt.  
"And why didn't I know about this?" Prussia exclaimed in anger then. "I could've talked to him before he would even try, I -I could've _stopped him!_ "  
"Because it was not His Majesty's wish for you to know, master Prussia," the man who was telling him the news then answered with a certain light in his eyes that got Prussia's blood boiling. _He didn't want me to know because he knows I would've stopped him,_ he realised. _And then he wouldn't have had any reason to lock his own son up._ But he could've guessed that already. What bothered him more was that Fritz had never told him anything about his plans. Hadn't even taken the time to say goodbye.

He wasn't allowed to see Fritz until late October, when all sentences had been spoken. Von Katte, who had been in Potsdam on the day of the incident, had been arrested as well, a suspected accomplice of the crown prince. The two young men had both been locked up in Fort Kustrin, where Prussia was finally allowed to travel to so that he could speak to his crown prince. Fritz didn't seem very willing to talk, but nonetheless he looked happy when he saw Prussia again after so long.  
Prussia wasn't quite as happy. "Why didn't you tell me anything?" he snapped the moment he stood in front of Fritz's cell. He hadn't wanted to act this angry, but he couldn't help himself at that moment. Almost 3 months had passed, and he hadn't had the chance to talk to Fritz before now; he just had to blow up now, and then everything would be fine again. Eventually. Someday.  
Fritz shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "Because I knew you'd try to stop me, and I couldn't have that," he answered softly. Then the human took a deep breath and sighed. "I had to do this, Prussia, please understand. I couldn't stand it anymore at home, I had to leave-"  
"And leave me behind without saying anything?" Prussia interrupted him with narrowed eyes and an angry edge to his voice. "Why would you do that?"  
Fritz looked desperate now, his eyes shimmering with sadness and guilt. "Oh, Prussia, trust me when I say that having to leave you was one of the hardest things," he said in a whisper, voice quivering. "You've been a good friend all my life. More often than not, you've been the only person I could trust, the only one I could lean on in times of need." He reached forward with one hand, trying to place his hand on Prussia's shoulder through the bars of his cell, but the kingdom stepped back.  
His heart pounding against his ribs, the albino glared at his prince with a fiery anger burning in his red eyes, the instensity of it making the young crown prince flinch away from him again. "If you had explained it to me," he began slowly, making every word he spoke extra clear. "If you had just _trusted_ me, I would've let you go. I would've helped you, even!"  
"You couldn't have!" Fritz choked out then, shocked. "Father would've killed you for it!"  
"Have you forgotten who I am?!" Prussia roared then. "Have you? Because it seems like it! Well, let me remind you, Fritz: I am the Kingdom of Prussia, I am an immortal, and your father wouldn't _dare_ lay a finger on me like that. He knows better than to _really_ try hurting me. _Unlike you._ " Fritz looked even more shocked after that, eyes wide as Prussia continued his rant. "You really have forgotten me, haven't you? Need some more reminders to help spark your memory? How about this: I've been the only real friend you've had for years and years on end. I was the one you always came to when you needed help. I was the one who always tried to cover for you whenever I could, when you once again did something to anger your father, the foul bastard. I have taken more beatings for you than I can ever hope to count!"  
Fritz looked breathless for a moment, and when Prussia was silent for just a few heartbeats, he choked out hoarsely: "You... you have?"  
"Oh, yes," Prussia answered, more controlled now but still more angry than he had been in ages. "Hell, Fritz, I've had my bones broken for you! I took the blame for things your father was angry about, that you weren't even aware of." He stopped again, letting those words sink in to the stunned crown prince. Then, more softly yet, he finished: "And yet, you couldn't even care to tell me that you were leaving. Some great mutual friendship we have. I thought I was more important to you than that."  
"Prussia, you _are_ important to me!" Fritz tried to tell him desperately. "You are, really! B-but so is Katte, and so is the chance to be free of my father."  
"And do you have any idea how important _you_ are to _me_?" Prussia retorted. It was difficult now to keep his voice steady, but he managed. "Dammit, Fritz, you've been the only person who could cheer me up for 26 years! You've been the only person with whom I could feel _happy,_ with whom I finally felt normal again!" He gritted his teeth, taking the time to take a few deep breaths. Now wasn't the time to let his emotions get the better of him, not any more than they already had. "So forgive me if I'm angry at you now for taking that away from me again."  
Fritz was silent for a long moment, a moment too long to Prussia's liking. Still seething with rage, the kingdom spun around and started walking away again. But before he could leave, Fritz spoke again. "Prussia..."  
"Oh, yes, and about that cute little boyfriend of yours!" Prussia then said loudly, not even looking at the prince as he broke the news to him. "He's been found guilty of treason, like you. But unlike you, he's not a crown prince and will not be the Brandenburgian prince-elector, either, and is thus not under protection of the Holy Roman Emperor. So he will be beheaded soon."  
" _What?!_ " Fritz then cried out, more emotion put into that one word than there had been in the entire conversation before then, from his side anyway, which only cut deeper into Prussia's heart. _Who's more important to you?_ he wanted to ask, but he couldn't get the words over his lips. _A man you've known for barely 2 years, or the man who's been by your side since the very day you were born?_ "They can't!" Fritz then went on in total panic. "T-treason should be p-punished with a life-long sentence, n-n-not death, this-!"  
"Yes, well," Prussia answered in a soft mutter. "Your father thought a 'life-long' sentence, since that would end when _he_ died, wouldn't be severe enough for a traitor such as Von Katte. But don't worry, Fritz, you won't suffer the same fate. I still need you as my king when your father dies. However..." He glanced at the young man over his shoulder now. "Your father is also considering letting your little brother succeed the throne instead. So we'll see about your status yet, Fritz. Goodbye for now." Then he walked away, trying to block out Fritz's frantic pleas.  
"No, please! Prussia, _please_ , don't let them do this! Katte is innocent! Please, let them take me instead, I beg you! I don't need that stupid throne, I don't need that imperial protection, but let Katte live! Prussia, you _have to_ put a stop to this! Prussia! _PLEASE, PRUSSIA!_ "  
But Prussia left without even looking back. If Fritz wanted his help now, he should've thought about that before he betrayed his oldest friend.

* * *

 **Haaa... teenagers. One moment they make you doubt everything you had ever thought of yourself, the next they unintentionally give you that lovely metaphorical stab in the back. They're lovely creatures to be around. I should know, I am one and I live with two of 'em.**

 **If only Fritz were still as little and innocent as he had been... *sigh*  
And I loved writing jealous Prussia. I just really, really loved it.  
He is quite the jealous type in this story, though, isn't he? I mean, his hatred for Austria is, aside from clashing personalities, mainly jealousy. (Just wait 'til he finds out his 'sissy cousin who has everything _the Awesome Me_ deserves' also gets Hungary. Ohoho, being jealous of Katte will fade into naught compared to that!)**

 **And then the next thingy: I briefly adressed it in Rising and Trouble, but I don't know how many of you have read those... Yeah, I have this theory that by default, all nations are bisexual. There are exceptions of course (Sweden for one was confirmed by Himaruya to be gay) but just as most animals instinctively go for the opposite sex because they need to be able to reproduce, nations have a similar sort of thing because they can be married off to whomever happens to form an alliance/Personal Union/whatever with them. It just works out better that way for them.  
But personally I think Prussia is one of those guys who prefers women. Don't know why. Maybe I've been shipping PruHun for too long, who knows.**

 **Oh well. I hope you liked it anyway!  
(And also, since it won't be a thing in this story, but if enough people liked this kinda-but-not-really pairing, I might be tempted to write a one-shot. Nah, I probably will. I might be tempted to post it, more like it. (Same might happen for Brand!))**


	33. Chapter 33

**Filler alert.**

 **But then, there were some of you who mentioned not minding fillers so long as they contained Fritz.  
Well, it's Fritz-related history, anyway, for a bit!**

 **FunSoul, thanks for the follow! Abc, Tius and TheOldKaiser, thanks for the reviews! Yes, Tius, I'm a bit faster than usual now... no school for two weeks! ;) Always does the trick (until I realise I should be doing my darn homework...sigh)**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter despite its filler-ness!**

* * *

 _6 November 1730_

 _Today is the execution of whatshisname. Treacherous bastard, he deserves it. In my opinion, so does Fritz, but you know, the whole crown prince thingy... It's probably better that he's stripped of his military title, might soon be stripped of his crown prince title, and all of that._  
 _I do think it's cruel that they're going to make Fritz watch the execution, though. That might be a little too much, I mean... considering._

 _But honestly, I don't have the energy to think right now. Fritz's unawesome actions have had quite the impact on the Awesome Me. Little traitor turned my whole political world upside down. The headaches have been keeping me awake for months now, it's not funny anymore. Can't I have one painless, decent night? I didn't do anything, it was Fritz who broke the law a million times over. So why do I have to suffer for it?_

 _Good news about it all is that, for once, Frederick William and I seem to be on the same line again. Meaning, we both think Fritz should be punished severely, whatshisface needs to die, and_ _ **I'm**_ _allowed to take it easy because of those damned headaches. Hallelujah! He finally understands._  
 _So I'm off to bed now. Hopefully no one will wake me until after that darn execution._  
 _...Scrap that, hopefully I'll fall asleep in the first place._

Prussia's bedroom door opened softly, and the albino could hear someone carefully walking in and over to his side. He stifled a sigh and kept his eyes shut tight -anything to block out the light now, for light only intensified his pain. He could practically _sense_ the person standing beside him, staring at him, but he didn't bother to react to it.  
Until the person spoke. "Prussia," came Holy Rome's voice, in a low whisper. "Prussia, wake up, please."  
"I'm 'wake," Prussia grumbled in response, turning further away from Holy Rome and pulling the sheets over his face. "Don'wanna be, though. Ge'out."  
He heard his brother stifle a chuckle at this, and Prussia huffed. But Holy Rome insisted. "Prussia, I really need to talk to you for a moment. Please at least look at me."  
Then Prussia sighed. But before he even opened one eye to a mere slit, he muttered first: "Are the curtains closed? Like, _really_ closed?"  
It was silent for a moment, then he heard the little empire walk away, heard the movement of his curtains and then his brother's voice again: "They are now. Is it that bad, Prussia?" He walked back to his younger brother and sat down beside him on the edge of the teen's bed.  
With a sigh, Prussia sat up and looked at the Holy Roman Empire. There was still too much light right now, but he could handle this. For a short while, at least. "Yeah, kinda," he answered, rubbing his aching forehead for a moment.  
Holy Rome was inspecting him with clearly visible worry now. "By God, I don't think I've ever seen you looking this pale," he concluded with a sigh, lightly touching Prussia's face with his fingertips. "Though it might be because of the bags under your eyes... contrast, you know."  
Prussia managed to chuckle at this, though it was almost soundless. The bags under his eyes were like bruises nowadays, a stark contrast to his snow-white skin and hair. "Well, it's what you get for barely sleeping," he just commented, and as if to make his statement even more clear, he yawned immediately after. He was so exhausted, he could barely keep himself sitting like that.  
"Well, if you're feeling _this_ bad," Holy Rome just told him gently, "then I suppose the conversation can wait. It's important, but your health is more so. Try to sleep again, I'll come back later. I'm sorry for bothering you, Prussia." He got up then, but Prussia grabbed his wrist and stopped him.  
"Nah, stay a bit," he asked, cursing himself for his whiny tone, but he couldn't help that right now. It's what automatically happened if he felt this awful, which was luckily only once every few decades. "Just stay and talk to me, all right? I can't sleep anyway."  
The empire stared at him for a moment, then smiled and gave in. "Well, all right then, since you ask so nicely." Then the warmth that had shone in his eyes for a moment faded slightly, and he added more insistently: "But do lie down, please. You're swaying as you're _sitting_ , for Heaven's sake. And if you do drift off, I'll leave you to it, all right?"  
With another yawn, Prussia just nodded. "Agreed. Damn this, I don't feel awesome at all right now." Then he flopped down onto his back, pulling the sheets up again to keep himself warm. It would've been better if he could keep his head warm with them without not being able to look at his brother, but this was good enough. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"  
"No, Prussia," Holy Rome answered immediately, shaking his head slowly with an amused smile on his lips. "I won't talk about that right now, I'm afraid that would only make your headache worse." He sighed then, and looked away briefly. "The execution must've been about an hour ago, I think. I wonder how Fritz is doing after it..."  
"I hope bad," Prussia huffed. He really didn't want to think about Fritz now, but it seemed his brother would force him to. "As bad as I'm feeling because of him, I really hope it. That would be a fair exchange."  
Holy Rome smiled at this, but as he gently stroked Prussia's hair for a moment, much to the kingdom's dismay ( _I'm not a child, dammit!)_ , he replied: "Seeing you right now, Prussia, I don't think I would wish this on my worst enemies, and you know I've got a few of them around. And why would you want Fritz to feel this? I understand that you're angry, but you two are so close, it's like your brothers-"  
"You may understand _that_ I'm angry," Prussia snapped, interrupting his brother. "But trust me, you have no idea _how_ angry I am." He then forced himself to be quiet for a moment, and he calmed himself again before explaining more softly: "I've only ever been this angry at two people before, and, to be honest... one of them was you."  
Holy Rome stared at him for a moment, a flash of pain and guilt in his pale blue eyes, but then he looked away again. "I know what you're refering to," he answered softly. "I'm sorry for what I did. I... I was desperate." He then looked back down at his younger brother, slight pity in his eyes, but he clearly tried to hide that. "I do understand why you're so angry right now, though," he told Prussia then, voice just above a whisper. "I know I would hate it if my imperial family tried to pull something like this. And it must be especially hard for you, since you and Fritz... well, how do you say it... 'hooked up'."  
Prussia felt his face grow hot as the sun at this, and immediately he spluttered: "W-what? What the c-c-crap are you-? Fritz and I did not, er, 'hook up', not ever! And it's not going to happen, either! I-I don't even want to t- _think_ about it, you bastard!" But he knew his blush gave him away despite his words, if his stuttering didn't do so already. It hadn't been a lie though; it would only have been a lie if he'd said 'nothing ever happened', and he hadn't. He had wanted to, but that would've only made it worse, he had realised just in time.  
Holy Rome tilted his head curiously, though laughter twinkled in his eyes by now. "Really? That's not what Saxony told me." He seemed both genuinely curious and thoroughly amused, which was a unique combination for the little empire.  
Prussia just growled in anger at this. "Damn Saxon can never keep his mouth shut, can he?"  
"So he spoke the truth?"  
 _Shit._ Prussia looked away then, huffing before speaking again. "Well... sorta. Not that there is anything going on between me and Fritz, honest to God. But... Fritz kissed me one night and... and I..." He trailed off then, but Holy Rome finished for him:  
"Let me guess," his brother said softly. "You liked it?"  
"...Kinda."  
"Well, that's nothing bad," Holy Rome sighed, sitting back a bit and looking at Prussia with a warm, serene gaze that effortlessly calmed the Prussian's mind in a heartbeat. "Though it's forbidden for a country to have a relationship with humans, I must tell you. Not by law -morally forbidden. And countries' leaders especially." _So that's what Saxony meant with 'you're fucked',_ Prussia thought vaguely. _Well, he could've been more specific._ "So it's good that you didn't really start anything with him -and please don't do so in the future, you would have to be punished, and I don't want that." He closed his eyes and smiled then. "And, well, humans don't generally like seeing men together, so that's another reason not to. They would punish you for it even if they had no idea of our laws and ways. But if he was the one who kissed you, then just liking it is no sin." Then, with a playful wink, he added in a whisper: "And don't forget, rules are there to be broken!"  
"Holy Rome!" Prussia then complained, giving his brother a feeble, tired shove. "Shut up about it, will you!"  
But Holy Rome just laughed now. "Ah, you were never one to follow the rules, anyway," he said in between his laughter. "You being you, frankly, it wouldn't surprise me if you ended up breaking this particular rule -not necessarily with Fritz, of course."  
"No thanks," Prussia grumbled, getting annoyed now. "I've still got Hungary. Now shut up, _please._ "  
Holy Rome fell silent though, but instead of it being _just_ that, he also looked doubtful for a moment, which got Prussia curious what was going on in his brother's mind right now. "Still trying to get to Hungary, then?" the empire asked softly, his voice a mere whisper. Prussia nodded and answered that, at this point, he doubted he would ever really give up. More than a quarter of a century had passed since Brandenburg's death; he was allowed to try again after so many years, without being unfaithful to Brandenburg. Holy Rome nodded at this. "Sure you are, but I think you should give up on Hungary, anyway. You've been trying to get her attention for so long..."  
"I haven't _actively_ tried in centuries," Prussia put in, wondering where this conversation was going. "Maybe I can convince her of my awesomeness this time around. I can always try."  
"Just give up, Prussia," the elder brother insisted. "She isn't even aware yet that you've had a crush on her since forever -no, I swear I never told her a thing, nor anyone else for that matter- and I don't think anything about that will change now."  
Confused as to why they were even having this conversation, Prussia tensed up a little. "Well, you're one to talk!" he accused his brother immediately. "I know you're still in love with Venice. When will _you_ ever give up? If you can keep on trying for nearly 1000 years, then so can I, and I've only about 3 centuries down at this point. So shut up and let the Awesome Me do my job."  
Holy Rome sighed and got up, looking down at Prussia with a wry smile. "This is different, Prussia," he said softly. "Trust me." Then he turned around and walked away slowly. When Prussia called after him to ask what was different about it, he shrugged and didn't answer. Instead, he replied: "You look better now than when I walked in, Prussia; I suggest you take this opportunity to try and sleep."  
Prussia just stared after him, still confused and, if he had to admit, a little angry. Here he was, trying to convince himself he was allowed to try and be happy again without Brandenburg, and now Holy Rome was telling him it was best to give up? What utter bullshit was that?  
Then he realised that what the empire had said was true, he did feel a lot better now. During the conversation, most of his headache had faded to the back of his conscience, still present but not as much. Delighted he closed his eyes, and the kingdom drifted off into sleep just moments after.

* * *

In the days after Holy Rome's visit, Prussia felt a lot better, since he finally had some decent nights in a row again. Fritz didn't, but Prussia didn't know that -he could've guessed it, though.  
The prince was released from his cell on 18 November that year, but didn't return home. His father wished for him to remain where he was for indefinite time, and so the young human did, continuing his education there. Prussia wasn't allowed to see him much, but for the moment, neither of the two minded that fact.  
By 1 December however, Prussia came to visit his crown prince on his way to Konigsberg, where the king had allowed him to spend the coming winter on Prussia's own request. He had missed his old capital, which to him still felt more like his heart than Berlin did. Berlin was Brandenburg's, a heart that no longer beat, a capital that no longer lived. Not to Prussia.  
For now, however, he focused on his visit to Fritz, hoping they could reconcile a bit now. It was about time they did, after months of anger between them. The first thing he did when he got there was inquire about how Fritz was doing, as the prince was having lessons at the moment and he wasn't allowed to interrupt (and he didn't want to, either, anything to be able to prepare a little longer). They told him he was doing fine, considering. He had been severely depressed for three days following Katte's execution, then he had never spoken of the man again. He still seemed shaken by everything that had happened, but he seemed to be doing well enough again by now.  
"That's good," Prussia mumbled, half to himself, more relieved than he wanted to admit. The boy he had watched grow up, with whom he had spent 18 years of his life so far getting through some rather nasty, painful situations together, was still very important to him, and would always be, possibly more so than any of his leaders before then. His bond with Fritz was stronger than with any human before him, except maybe the one who had shared his name, the knight Frederick who had been his very first friend even before Hungary.

Later that afternoon, the Prussian went up to Fritz's room, after the young man's lessons had ended. He knocked tentatively, but still went in before Fritz had a chance to answer. The human seemed shocked when he saw Prussia, but not unhappy. "When did you get here?"  
"A few hours ago," Prussia answered, closing the door behind him. Standing in front of Fritz now, he felt completely unawesome once again, like he had when he had confronted the prince in his cell in Kustrin weeks before. Shifting uncomfortably, he grabbed something from under his coat and handed it to Fritz. "I... I smuggled your flute with me..."  
Fritz stared at the wooden object wide-eyed, then smiled warmly. "Thank you, Prussia," he said softly as he took it from his kingdom's hands. "That is... very kind of you."  
Prussia silently sat down beside him then, staring at Fritz as the prince stared at the flute he held, memories flashing in his eyes. Prussia could almost see them as they came and went again. Then he sighed, and the silence hurt his head more than the months of political stress had done. He had to break it somehow, but he wasn't sure what they could talk about that wouldn't end up awkward or in a fight again, or both in the worst case. "Could you play a piece?" he asked eventually, nodding to the instrument he had brought for his friend. "Please?"  
"My music is still 'too awesome to resist', then?" Fritz asked softly, smiling a little, but sadly so. "Fine then, I'd love to play the flute again after so long." Carefully he brought the instrument to his lips and started playing, at which Prussia immediately relaxed. He loved Fritz's music too much. It soothed his heart and soul every time he listened to it, like Brandenburg had done with her piano despite not being as good as Austria. For a moment he could forget Fritz's betrayal, the execution which seemed to have damaged his favourite prince so much, the anger between him and his young friend. For just a moment, he went back to the moments they had spent together before this mess had wrecked their lives, and he was happy like that.  
He hadn't noticed he had closed his eyes until Fritz stopped playing and he had to open them again. "Still as beautiful as ever," Prussia commented softly. "It seems you inherited some of my awesomeness, even if you express it through music and not battle."  
He looked to his side at Fritz, and saw the boy was still trying to smile, but by now it wasn't working out for him anymore. Instead, the young prince sighed and looked away.  
Guessing what this was about, Prussia decided to risk it and bring 'it' up, anyway. "Say, about that execution business, I'm sorry," he began softly, wondering how best to put it. "But he was found guilty of treason... he deserved this, Fritz, you know that. It was nothing but a proper punishment for a traitor."  
"It was the brutal slaughter of an innocent man," Fritz protested in a whisper, and it seemed that was all he had to say on the matter, because after that he kept his mouth tightly shut again.  
Prussia stared at him for a heartbeat, wondering what to do next. "If that's what you want to believe," he sighed with a shrug. "All right then." But Fritz didn't react this time, only turned his face away from Prussia so that he didn't have to look at him. This came as a stab to the Prussian's heart, but he didn't let it show. Instead he carefully reached out to Fritz, gently grabbed his chin and turned his face back so that the prince would have to look at him. But even then, he was doing his best to avert his gaze from the kingdom. Slight anger sparking in his chest now, Prussia insisted softly, "Hey, come on, Fritz... I said I'm sorry, and I meant it. Now can you talk to me again?" But Fritz still didn't react with more than a sigh and a shrug, and the anger sparked a little brighter now. "You're not going to end 18 years of friendship over the execution of _one_ guy, are you?" Prussia demanded then, voice a little harder already. "That would be foolish! Come _on,_ Fritz, look at me! I didn't have anything to do with all this -hell, I was in bed then, feeling like a fissure had formed in my skull, I _couldn't_ have had anything to do with all this!" He felt something prick in his eyes then, and his chest felt tight, making breathing a little more difficult for him, but he paid no attention to it.  
And when Fritz still didn't react, Prussia did the one thing he'd sworn to himself he would never do: carefully pulling the prince closer to himself, he kissed him full on the lips, every muscle in his body relaxing in an instant. And in that heartbeat, he remembered what Holy Rome had said to him; _rules are there to be broken._ Well, maybe he _wouldn't_ mind breaking this particular rule, if it felt this good-  
No, he would. Definitely would.  
Because a heartbeat was all it lasted. Fritz roughly pushed him away, with force that nearly knocked Prussia to the floor now that he had just relaxed like that. " _What-?_ " he exclaimed, sounding angry. Wide-eyed and shocked, Fritz stared at Prussia and the kingdom sat up again and met his gaze. "What did you-? _Prussia!_ " The albino Prussian flinched at being yelled at like that, and much to his own dismay, he felt one of the tears that had formed in his eyes a little while ago already slide down his face now. But Fritz didn't notice, or else didn't care; he was seething with anger. "You have some really bad timing there, you know that?!"  
Now, Prussia tensed again and got angry as well. "Oh, really?" he retorted, raising his voice. "And you mean to say that yours is so great, then? Because kissing me when I'm stinking drunk is a display of the _greatest_ sense of timing on this entire planet, naturally!"  
"At least it was better than kissing me just weeks after you executed my-!" Fritz began, falling silent abruptly, and turning away. "Well, whatever. Just... don't, please."  
Gritting his teeth, Prussia turned away, too, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was right," he grumbled. "This was a bad idea, after all..."  
"Coming here or kissing me?"  
"Both, I guess."  
Fritz huffed. "Well then, if it was such a bad idea, why don't you leave? See if I care." He glanced at Prussia then, and immediately his gaze softened and he leaned in a little closer. "...Prussia?" he whispered tentatively, reaching out to the kingdom and brushing one finger over Prussia's cheek, catching another lonely tear that rolled down his cheek. "You're not... crying, are you?"  
"Not at all," Prussia huffed, shifting where he sat. "Don't flatter yourself, Fritz, you're not awesome enough for that." But when Fritz then suddenly pulled the kingdom against himself in a tight hug, Prussia stiffened, then quickly turned around and hugged him back. "You stupid bastard!" he cursed, his words muffled as he pressed his face against Fritz's shoulder. "You vile son of a bitch! Do you have any idea how much you've hurt me? You may have had a hell of a time lately, but so have I! A-and I'm not just talking about you trying to run away like you did," he added with a huff, which somehow came out more as a sob. "I've been having these terrible headaches for months because you turned my political world upside down and inside out. I haven't slept well since you tried your little stunt. And do you have any idea how angry your father is? _I've_ been the one who's had to deal with that." He sniffed, adding more softly: "Well, at one point your dad and I have begun seeing eye-to-eye on the matter of my headaches, anyway, he let me take some time off eventually. But trust me when I say it took him a little while to get there, and it just hurt _so much._ "  
Fritz was silent for a moment, then held Prussia closer. "I'm sorry that I caused you so much trouble," he whispered. "I really am. But do you understand why I did it?" After some hesitation, Prussia nodded, and Fritz sighed in relief. "I'm glad... really glad..."  
They sat like that for a little while, finally managing to set aside their anger. Then, just as Prussia wanted to let go of Fritz and sit up straight again, the prince pulled him a little closer again, whispering: "Are you staying here tonight?"  
"Naturally," Prussia answered, confused. "I would have to sleep on the roadside if I left now."  
He felt Fritz shaking with silent laughter, and then he realised what the prince had meant just a split second before the human spoke again. " _No,_ silly. Are you staying _here_ tonight? If you're careful, no one needs to know..."  
Prussia was tense for a moment after that request, but then he sighed and nodded. "I suppose I could..."

* * *

Well, that turned out to be a one-time thing. It was a little difficult the next morning, trying to avoid being seen both slipping out of the same room, even if there was a pause between the two of them leaving. So, they had both decided, that had been a wonderful one-night stand, but it would remain that.  
It was against the rules, anyway, so that helped in making the decision as well.  
Now, a little while later, Prussia could finally get his mind of everything again: no memories of Brandenburg to bother him, no more anger and bottled-up frustration about Fritz's betrayal, no king to act out his anger on him, whether verbally or physically... and he wasn't too bothered by his most recent memories with Fritz, to be honest.  
But watching the snowfall in Konigsberg washed away every single memory that wasn't relevant to him now, anyway. Just being back in what he still perceived to be his capital filled him with a warmth and happiness that was more than sufficient to block out the cold winds of winter in the north, and the warm woolen coat he had bought there helped a great deal as well.  
"There's no place like home," he mumbled to himself one evening, walking along the banks of the river Pregel, breathing in the cool evening air. There was truly no place like Konigsberg. If he could choose, he would choose for this city to be his capital once again. He had spent many more years living there than he had in Berlin, or even his first capital, Marienburg. Back then he had often travelled, something he had still done before he had married Brandenburg and even then he'd done so more than since he had become a kingdom.  
He had never gotten rid of the habits he'd gotten as the wandering Order of the Teutonic Knights. But if he had to choose a home, a permanent home, it would always be Konigsberg. Not Marienburg, not Berlin, definitely not Konigs Wusterhaussen. Always the grand city of Konigsberg.  
He smirked to himself as he thought about that, and said in a whisper to himself: "Well, and I do still have that University of Konigsberg that I want to go to..."  
His much-earned holiday to Konigsberg came as a reminder to him that, though there were dark times in life, there would also always be light. He'd been in a pretty dark place after Holy Rome had turned against him, but Brandenburg had pulled him out of that. He hadn't known what to do to keep himself sane after Brandenburg had died, but then Fritz was born. And now, after he'd been so angry at his only really good friend right now, he'd been able to set aside that anger and move on. And now, when the time came that Fritz came home again, he knew there would be a chance on real happiness again.  
He would just have to be awesomely patient and wait for it to return to his life.

 _31 December 1730_

 _Let's make next year another awesome one!_

* * *

 **All righty, I have decided to fill up the next chapter with history again, till the point where Fritz becomes king maybe... because I want to get out of this filler thing that I'm in now. It feels like I'm procrastinating (even though I'm writing at a quicker pace than usual) and... gah.**

 **I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading!  
(Also, on a side note, I'm done with my storyboards for what I now call 'Project dr Prussia's sing-along blog'; I'm going to do a lip-sync test with my new animation software today, in fact, so that is... you know, coming along. *cough* no dr Horrible references here at all *cough*)**


	34. Chapter 34

**12 pages. That's the length of this thing. I suppose I got carried away with writing a certain scene...  
I hope I made a nice mix of things in this chapter emotion/atmosphere-wise. That was the idea, and I really hope it worked out!**

 **Abc, Tius and TheBlueAcid, once again thank you so much for the reviews!  
Well, I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

 _26 February 1732_

 _Fritz is coming home today! He is finally allowed to leave Kustrin and come back to Konigs Wusterhaussen by his father._  
 _Now I also heard the man muttering to himself about having to marry off his son sometime soon... I wonder how Fritz is going to take that. He has never liked any decisions his father has made, especially concerning him, and on top of that he's also... primarily into men. Solely, to be more precise, or at least so it seems._  
 _Oh well, I don't care what happens, so long as Fritz is coming home again! And also on the matter of marriage, that boy will be fine... I mean, I didn't want to be married off to Brand, and just look where we ended up. Things can turn out better than one at first anticipates._

 _...And I just realised I should stop calling Fritz 'boy'. He's 20 years old now. Dammit, he's a man now. How time flies... they grow up so fast._  
 _I didn't._ _And I don't like that. Hell, you've no idea what I would give to just be an_ _adult_ _already, if only to make everyone stop calling me 'boy'! I am so much older than everyone here combined. Well, maybe not_ _everyone_ _, but the majority of them combined._  
 _Actually, I don't know how old I am, let me do the maths..._  
 _Gods. I'm 540 this year. I don't know for sure if I'm that old already, or if I still have to become 540 though..._  
 _You know what? Screw it! I'm going to just pick my birthday, and I'm picking the day I became a kingdom: 18 January._

 _...Which means I missed my own birthday this year, but ah well. Who cares._  
 _I don't. Because I've got better things to worry about -my awesome crown prince returning home, for one!_

"Father, I will not marry that woman!"  
"Sometimes, son, I think you will never marry _any_ woman."  
"Why is it so important to you anyway?"  
At this, Prussia held up his hand to catch the attention of Frederick William and Fritz. The two humans looked up from their arguing and stared at Prussia expectantly, waiting patiently for what he had to say. "Because I don't want to be handed back to Poland," the kingdom answered Fritz's question matter-of-factly. "That's why it's so important _to all of us._ "  
Fritz sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't know if you've noticed, Prussia, but my parents have been rather... active, so to say. I have younger brothers and tons of sisters. I'm sure one of them will be able to provide you with the next generation of kings if I do not."  
Now Frederick William sighed, clearly annoyed with his son already but clearly making an effort not to go around hitting him so soon after his return. "Why are you so opposed to it? Marriage is a normal and, for royalty, vital part of life, Frederick. You'll have to do it sooner or later. Sooner _rather_ than later -you're not getting younger."  
"I'm 20!"  
"You know what," Prussia just sighed now, getting up from where he had sat and watched the scene unfold, walking away slowly. "You guys just... settle this now, I'm no good with marriage-related matters." He hoped to be out of there before the humans would realise his mistake in that statement, but alas.  
"Actually, Prussia," the king then said, just before his kingdom could escape, "I remember stories of how reluctant _you_ were to marry. Yet I also remember how close you and Brandenburg were."  
"Oh yes," Prussia then replied, looking over his shoulder at his monarch with a wide smirk on his lips. "You would remember that very _vividly,_ I recall. Inquisitive little kid you were." He snickered when he saw the man look away uncomfortably at that, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks, and Fritz simply stared at his father in shock; he'd never seen him like this, and was now probably wondering what Prussia was talking about. And then realised it, a moment in which Prussia could for once see the resemblance between father and son quite clearly. They both got the same look in their eyes if they felt awkward. He just shrugged. "Hey, _you're_ not the one who needs to feel awkward about it, you know? I think that's _my_ role in this case."  
The king just cleared his throat and seemed to shake off those memories in a heartbeat then. "What I was saying, Prussia, is that you're the perfect person to convince my son that marriage will not be the end of his life," he said simply, and with a wave of his hand, he added: "You're both dismissed. Prussia, please do as I ask."

Minutes later, the country and human found themselves walking through the garden in silence. Fritz still seemed tense after his conversation with his father, and Prussia was simply uncomfortable. Eventually the prince sighed and looked at Prussia. "So I guess you're supposed to give me advice now?"  
Prussia shrugged. "I don't know what kind of advice he thinks I can give you," he admitted. "I don't have a lot of experience with marriage, after all."  
"You've kept one up for 81 years," Fritz countered, confused, as he stared at Prussia with his brows furrowed. "How is that 'not a lot of experience'?" But the Prussian shrugged again and looked away, silent now. Fritz looked at him a moment longer, then sighed again. "Right. Painful subject, don't talk about it. I get it. Sorry."  
"Marriage in itself is painful," Prussia then mumbled, still looking away, glancing at the sky as he walked. "You're forced into something you don't want, and from then on, it can go one of two ways: either you never grow to love your wife and will be miserable having to live with her all your life together, or you _do_ grow to love her and then she dies and you're left miserable anyway." He huffed angrily kicking a pebble away with such force, it flew out of sight. Beside him, Fritz stared after the little stone with wide eyes, then decided to walk at a slightly greater distance from his friend. "Only fools get married!" Prussia snapped then, to no one in particular. "And then, it's also a sissy way of doing politics! Just look at my dumb, arisotcratic cousin: Personal Union here, alliance there. He was even married to _Spain_ once!"  
"So you say now," Fritz then interrupted him nervously, carefully thinking about his words. "But just a few minutes ago you sided with my father and said I _should_ marry."  
"Well, duh, you're a human," Prussia retorted, rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing ever and Fritz just didn't get it. "It's different for humans. Marriage actually has a purpose for you: creating new generations, making sure your bloodline lives on. For us immortals, it doesn't work like that. In a Personal Union, it is optional to marry the two countries to represent that union -though it isn't a necessity, I'm in Personal Union now, too, after all. But it's not like we ever _need_ to get married -we cannot even do the one thing that makes it important to humans, so why would we?"  
"But we're talking about humans here," Fritz then quietly told him, getting more nervous now. He clearly wanted to leave and let Prussia throw his little tantrum in solitude now. Or at least not in his presence. "As you said, I'm a human. But you've clearly stated the purpose of marriage now, so-"  
"There _is_ no purpose to it all!" Prussia grumbled, not listening to his friend anymore at all. "It's just something that was created to make people suffer for all eternity. Just wonderful."  
"So you're saying-"  
"Oh no, _you're_ going to get married, kid," the kingdom then stated quickly before Fritz could voice his hopeful conclusion. He set his anger aside quickly and smirked at the prince as he went on: "You've given me a hard enough time already, you're _not_ giving me a hard time with this, too!" With that said, the two continued walking in silence, Prussia grinning wide and Fritz looking peeved.

* * *

A few weeks later, because the woman Frederick William had suggested to become Fritz's wife was a cousin to Empress Anna of Russia, Prussia found himself in Russia together with his king and, unfortunately, without Fritz.  
To make matters worse, he was expected to spend time with Russia; the king prefered if he were on good terms with this now-strong country. Prussia had muttered something about it being too late for that already, but Frederick William hadn't listened.  
And Russia had grown up. The last time they'd seen each other, Prussia had been taller than him by far. Not anymore.  
"Ah!" Russia said happilly when he saw his guest approach him tentatively. "You're here! That's so nice." With a wide smile, he walked over to Prussia and greeted him in his own language. Prussia muttered a greeting response, but that didn't faze Russia. Instead of reacting to that, he looked down at Prussia with expressionless blue eyes. "Ah... it seems the last person in Brandenburg was killed after all then, hm?"  
Prussia stared at him, not understanding, but his heart racing at the mention of Brandenburg. "What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped, angry that the other country even brought it up.  
Russia looked startled. "Well, that's what you said about her once," he explained, as if he didn't understand why the Prussian was so angry all of a sudden. "That you'd have to kill the very last person living in her lands for her to not be doing well. Dead isn't 'doing well', so I thought-"  
"Just shut up!" Prussia exclaimed, already wanting to pummel this bastard into an early grave. "Shut up _right now_ if you know what's good for you!"  
Russia flinched at this. "I just thought... I still had to give you my condolences, after all..."  
"Oh, some great condolences!" the albino kingdom then retorted. "Yes, thank you, that _really_ makes me feel as if you give a shit!" When Russia flinched again, he took a deep breath, breathed out slowly and tried to calm himself like that. Without looking at the Tsardom, he said with a strained voice: "Okay, here are the rules: you do _not_ mention Brandenburg in any way. Saying anything like 'mark' is out of the question also-"  
"Why that?"  
"Because she was a margraviate, that's why!" Prussia rolled his eyes at that, but went on then. "I do not need any of you useless pity, we're here to discuss a possible marriage and what that would mean for our international relations. Yeah? Got it? Good."  
Prussia then turned around and walked away again, he didn't care what his king would say. His future king might get a Russian bride, but Prussia would _never_ get along with the Tsardom. He didn't even look back at the Russian now, but he could feel his gaze burning into his back; Russia did _not_ like the way he acted now, clearly.  
 _Does he even realise his mistake?_ Prussia thought angrily, clenching his hands into fists. _Does he even realise what a cruel jerk he can be?_ It seemed like Russia was doing it all on purpose, had done so since forever. Of course Prussia hated him, of course he taunted and insulted him. Russia, knowingly or not, did the same to him.  
 _Please God, stop this marriage,_ he prayed silently. _Such ties with Russia will be the end of me for sure... I couldn't take it if I suddenly had to be 'friendly' with that... that bastard!_

* * *

His prayers had been heard (perhaps because Fritz had probably prayed for the same thing, though for other reasons, Prussia thought); Prince Eugene of Savoy was opposed to the marriage, and so they put a stop to it. When Frederick William then went on looking for other potential women for his son, Fritz shocked everyone and suggested someone himself (and much to Prussia's surprise, it really was a woman): Maria Theresia of Austria.  
"A _Habsburg?!_ " Prussia exclaimed when Fritz first mumbled the idea, more to himself than anyone else. "You're thinking of marrying a _Habsburg woman_?"  
Fritz jumped and looked at his kingdom in shock. He had probably not even noticed that he'd been thinking out loud. "Well, m-maybe," the prince stuttered. "I mean, you more than anyone should know that I do not want to, of course. It's about the last thing I want. But you mentioned, like everyone else has by now, that a good marriage consists of good political structures." He fell silent for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Politically speaking, who's better than Maria Theresia? You know as well as I do that, the position she's in now, _she_ would be the mother of the next Holy Roman Emperor."  
Prussia didn't quite comprehend, but when Fritz went on, he piqued his kingdom's interest in a heartbeat. "If she marries me, Prussia, that would be taken away from her and her heirs -which wouldn't even come into existence, if I have anything to say about it." Heart racing with excitement now, Prussia listened to the last sentence almost gleefully. "It would sure make a dent in Austria's power in the Holy Roman Empire, don't you think?"  
"You're a _genius_ ," the kingdom cheered for his prince, laughing at the idea. He would love to see Austria's face when that happened! Anything to take power away from Austria would be great, even more so if he himself gained power in the process. "Fritz, I love your brain."  
"Love you too, Prussia," the prince said smirk. "You're the one who taught me to think like this; my father would only solve things by using his army."  
Prussia's excitement dropped a little at that comment. "Well, actually," he confessed, looking away, "that would be my solution to problems, too. In physical strength, I'm so awesome that I'm unmatched by anyone in Europe by now! I just need a chance to prove it to everyone," he added more softly. "But that day will come. Your father has built the most amazing army I've ever seen, it would be a waste not to put it to good use. And I also want a chance to show everyone how awesomely smart I am."  
"You can do that by acting like politics actually matter to you," Fritz commented flatly, shrugging. "Then again, doing this would be my idea, so you wouldn't get any credit."  
"Politics do matter to me," Prussia protested, staring indignantly at the human. "I don't want headaches like I had back when you... well... _stuff._ "  
"Is that the only reason?"  
"...More or less."  
Fritz rolled his eyes and sighed. "Look, Prussia, I'm not a fan of politics either -I prefer art and philosophy- but at least I make an effort of thinking about them." He then got up and walked over to his kingdom, patting the teenager on the head with a smile. "You're right though, you _are_ intelligent, much more so than you get credit for. It would just be a wise idea to use your brain for other things than just war strategies sometime."  
"No fair," Prussia pouted, slapping the human's hand away. "I've always wanted to go to university, but none of my leaders would ever let me. Said I don't have the time to study." He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes in frustration.  
Fritz stared at him in silence for a moment, his expression blank, until he stated: "You know, Prussia, sometimes you can act really childish." The kingdom just stuck his tongue out at him, on purpose of course, but the prince didn't seem to notice that part and rolled his eyes. "Now there's what I mean. But you know what? When I become king, I'll let you go to university whenever there's time for it -which I promise there will be. Quite honestly, I don't see myself ever becoming a parent, so helping to raise the royal family is one job less for you. And when there's no wars or other troubles, I'm sure things should work out for you. How about it?"  
Prussia could only stare at him with twinkling eyes and a bright smile. Then he sighed in pure bliss, mumbling softly: "See, now that's why I love you. I can't wait 'til you're king." Fritz just chuckled.  
"Sometimes, Prussia, you're such a nerd."  
"An _awesome_ nerd. You forgot 'awesome', Fritz. I'm an _awesome_ nerd."

That didn't happen, though. Not Maria Theresia, anyway. Another Habsburg, much to Prussia's dismay, and that of Fritz as well. Not only would Fritz have to get married to a member of the 'meddlesome' Habsburg family, their plan of taking power from Austria also wasn't going to work out this way. Fritz had actually considered suicide at this point, but when he got word of that through Frederike Wilhelmine, Prussia quickly talked him out of it. No way his prince was going to kill himself over marriage.  
When he heard they were expected to go to Vienna for discussions about the upcoming marriage, however, Prussia considered it for a moment, too. _Dammit, now Austria will have even more to say in my matters..._ Maria Theresia would have been a political advantage for Prussia, surely. Elisabeth Christine sure wasn't.

* * *

"I'm going to throw myself in front of a carriage," Fritz mumbled miserably with a deep sigh as they walked the last end to the palace in Vienna.  
Prussia just patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. His words weren't quite as compassionate. "Don't you dare," he just muttered back under his breath.  
"You're right, throwing myself off the palace would be a more certain death."  
"Don't you dare."  
"If I don't die _right now,_ Prussia, I'm going to be sick."  
"Don't you dare."  
A sigh. "Is that all you can say now?" Fritz complained to who he perceived as his only ally right now. The prince clearly loathed every second he had to spend here, even though he was still quite fond of Austria. Well, the person anyway. The country, the power the Habsburg dynasty had, not so much.  
Prussia just shrugged. "No," he answered flatly. "But it's the only reasonable answer to your unawesome complaints."  
"Shut up, both of you," Frederick William grumbled from a little way ahead of them. "I want you both to make a good impression today -and no, Prussia, it doesn't matter that the people you will be spending your time with have known you for centuries already. I'm not saying it should be a good _first_ impression, just..." He sighed, and looked desperate for just a heartbeat. "You two are going to be the death of me, I swear. Childish, both of you." He halted then and turned around to look at both his son and his kingdom, and repeated intently: "I want you two to make a decent impression on the Habsburgs, it is _vital_. Or do you want to end up in Kustrin for another few months, son?" Fritz quickly shook his head, averted his gaze and mumbled and apology. The king's eyes then darted over to Prussia. "And do you wish to end up with those headaches again? Because if this goes wrong, I don't know how long it will take to find my son a good wife, and you know how important that is for your politics as well."  
"Yes, Your Majesty," Prussia mumbled quickly, then shook his head. "I mean, no, I don't want those headaches again. I'd rather die, I suppose."  
Frederick William narrowed his eyes at this. "That's a little radical, don't you think? Just behave, that's all I ask." He then turned around again and entered the palace, leaving Prussia and Fritz to stand there for a few moments longer, staring at him then staring at each other.  
"Did we seriously just get lectured?" Prussia asked, not quite comprehending what had just happened.  
"Without beatings?" Fritz simply added. They both didn't understand one bit of it, being way too used to the man's temper after so many years. They looked at each other for a moment longer, then both shrugged and silently followed the king. Why should they question why they hadn't received any beating? It was a good thing, no questions needed. That might spoil it.

Austria and the Holy Roman Empire were waiting for them inside, and they both smiled politely when they saw the three Prussians. While Austria said a welcome to the king and crown prince, Holy Rome turned to his younger brother. "Good to see you again, Prussia. It's been too long."  
"I think it hasn't been long enough," Prussia muttered under his breath, which earned him a forceful nudge from his king, but the man didn't react to it otherwise. Still, to avoid worse, Prussia cleared his throat and started over. "I-I mean, er... yes. Good to see you, too, Holy Rome, and Austria as well." That last part came over his lips with the greatest difficulty imaginable. "It really has been much too long."  
Austria just stared at him blankly, but then amusement shone in his eyes and he chuckled for a moment. "Well, it's good to see that you can at least pretend. Still I really do think it's good to see you, Prussia."  
 _Liar._ Prussia suppressed a huff; he didn't believe a word of it. Austria disliked him as much as he did Austria. _You're just a better actor... At this moment, I mean. I've had to deal with Russia just months ago, having to visit him and then you is too much even for the Awesome Me._ But he didn't say a word, and after a few seconds even managed to twitch his lips into what could be considered a tiny and very brief smile.  
The Austrian then turned to Fritz. "Well, Your Highness, I hope you're ready to meet your future bride?"  
"Can't wait," the young human muttered, earning the same rough nudge Prussia had gotten, and he had a similar reaction to it. "I mean, yes, I'd love to." He couldn't possibly have sounded more forced, though. Austria chose to ignore that part. Instead, he led Fritz and Frederick William away, leaving Prussia with Holy Rome.  
The little empire looked up at his brother with an amused grin. "You don't look too happy to be here," he said. Then something flashed in his eyes, and he suddenly looked deadly serious. "It's good that we're alone now, Prussia. You see, for years now there's been something I've been meaning to discuss with you. Do you remember I came to you on the day Von Katte was executed?" Prussia nodded silently, wondering what it was his brother wanted to talk about that he would've waited years for. "Well, I never did get around to asking you back then... It's a question you're not going to like, Prussia, but I _need_ answers, or I'll go insane, I'm afraid." He sighed and shook his head, grabbing the albino's hand and dragging him away gently. "Come on, I... I don't think this hallway is the best place to talk about this. We'll go to my quarters."  
As he followed the small boy, Prussia wondered again what this was about, but his heart beat uncomfortably fast. Something told him he should be very worried about what was to come now, and he wanted nothing more than to run away and avoid this conversation at all costs. But he hid his nervousness and kept a straight face as much as he could.  
Once inside a room, well away from any other people, Holy Rome sat down, and beckoned for his little brother to do the same. After some hesitation, Prussia just did as he was asked now, still trying desperately to keep his expression blank. "What is it you want to discuss so privately, Holy Rome?" he just asked, struggling to controll his voice; he'd had plenty of time on the way here to imagine what it could be about, and if Holy Rome was this serious about it, it couldn't be good. In fact, Prussia had an idea where this was going, and he wasn't going to like it at all...  
The empire was silent for a moment, not looking at Prussia. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he sighed. "Prussia, nearly 30 years ago now-"  
He was cut off by the door opening loudly, but these words sent ice into Prussia's veins. _Nearly 30 years ago..._ He could think of only one thing that had happened in that time period. He must be talking about the summer of 1704. _Don't tell me..._  
Thankfully, Hungary came in then, saying a quick greeting to Holy Rome then walking over to Prussia. "Hiya! I thought I'd be able to find you here." She smiled warmly, which was a welcome distraction right now. Holy Rome seemed rather unhappy about her intrusion, but Prussia only thanked the heavens for it. The young woman then grinned at her old friend, green eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, young Fritz is finally getting married, then?" she began, a certain quiver in her voice that betrayed held-back laughter, something Prussia didn't understand until she added: "Shame it can't be with you, isn't it, Gil?"  
The Prussian went beetroot red at this, and he spluttered a few protests before turning to Holy Rome in a mixture of anger and embarassment. "What is-? D-did you-?" He couldn't get the words over his lips, but the older country understood.  
Holy Rome only shrugged and smirked. "Some secrets are meant to be kept, Prussia," he said softly. "Others are meant to become juicy gossip."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment longer, unable to breathe but, fortunately, the stressful moment before Hungary had barged in nearly forgotten now. Then the kingdom huffed and turned his gaze to a wall. "Well, you're wrong, Hungary," he protested. "I would _never_ want something like that. It's against the rules. And besides, it was only _one_ single measly little night, anyway."  
"There was a _night_ together?" Hungary just burst out laughing at this, giggling as if she was a little girl again.  
Realising his mistake, Prussia turned to Holy Rome again, who just stared at him with a knowing look. "Well, that's new information, Prussia," he said softly, chuckling as well by then. But his eyes didn't laugh along with the rest of him, which made Prussia realise again what his brother had wanted to talk to him about, and his stomach twisted painfully at that thought.  
Hungary then gave Prussia a playful slap on the shoulder, jolting him out of his worrying thoughts again. "Ah, it doesn't matter, Prussia!" she reassured him, though she was still laughing, which did quite the opposite of what her words were meant to do. "He's always been a really nice kid, and I won't deny that he's grown up to be quite the charming young prince -no one can blame you."  
"Oh, shut up," Prussia just retorted, grumbling a bit. He shot a sideward glance at his friend, which sent a warm, comfortable but at the same time itchy sensation through his entire body. _I would much rather have you, anyway._ He really wanted Hungary to figure out for herself that Prussia had feelings for her, and had done so since forever. It was so obvious, he thought, she _must_ be able to figure it out. _Maybe she knows already,_ he thought, a thought that got him disappointed. _And if that's the case, then that means she doesn't care..._ Surely she had yet to figure it out. Who could resist his awesomeness, after all? If she knew he was in love with her, she would definitely have reacted to it.  
Thankfully, Hungary stayed then, completely oblivious to the fact that she had just ruined Holy Rome's chance to talk to Prussia, and probably saved Prussia in doing so. But as the three talked, Holy Rome looked at Prussia with an intense, icy blue gaze at one point, which sent a shiver down Prussia's spine. But he kept his mouth shut.  
 _You were right, brother,_ he thought with a sigh. _Some secrets are just too good to be kept. But others are too horrible to ever be spoken out loud. And if I can help it, I will keep this one until the day I die._

To Prussia, it seemed like too little time had passed before Holy Rome decided to speak up. "Elizaveta," he began, interrupting her, "I was actually just going to have an important conversation with Prussia -privately."  
The Hungarian fell quiet immediately, and stared down at the little empire for a moment. Then she sighed and nodded, already getting to her feet. "All right, then," she said politely, still smiling. "I'll just go and see if Austria's done, I suppose. Good luck with... whatever it is, you two." She flashed an extra wide smile at Prussia, which got his heart fluttering, something he made no effort to hide. Let the blush come, the twinkle in his eyes, the love and admiration in his gaze -whatever his physical reaction would be, let her see it. Maybe _that_ would open her eyes for once. But then she walked away, leaving Prussia in what was probably the most uncomfortable situation he'd been in for years.  
Holy Rome's stare burned into him, and yet Prussia felt frozen to the core under his gaze. The silence between them seemed to last an eternity, but even that eternity wasn't long enough to Prussia now. "So, as I said," Holy Rome began after a while, hesitant but determined at the same time. "Nearly 30 years ago. I'm still not sure what happened in Blindheim..." Prussia's stomach started churning now. "Can you maybe tell me what happened?"  
For a moment, the kingdom thought he couldn't breathe anymore, but then after a short struggle, he managed. His voice took a little longer to come as well. "I-I came back when we retreated after the first attack," he stammered, the nerves eating away at his heart now. He was beginning to feel more sick with the second now, his mind reeling. "B-Brand wasn't there, so I... I went out to search for her. She was hurt when I found her and she..." He stopped for a moment, breathing deeply in a feeble attempt to calm himself. This couldn't be happening. Why was Holy Rome making him dig up such painful memories now? Still, telling this part of the story was better than the part he feared his brother was inquiring about. "She... she died in my arms..."  
"She did?" Holy Rome whispered, sounding genuinely shocked and sorry for his little brother. "That's awful... well, for you most of all. I think, Prussia, that you made her last moments bearable -wonderful even, maybe- by being with her like that." Prussia nodded slowly, having trouble breathing again by now, and he felt so sick he feared he might pass out. But Holy Rome didn't give up. "But -and I'm sorry for making you remember these things- what happened after that?" Prussia now noticed that he was trembling, but then, so was Holy Rome. "Did you, by any chance, see Bavaria that day?"  
He was very direct. Much too direct.  
Prussia jumped to his feet, swaying for a second. When Holy Rome stared up at him, shocked and slightly confused, he spun around quickly. "G-gotta go-!" he choked out, already running away.  
His feet carried him through the halls of the palace more quickly than he had thought possible. He could easily tell that he was hyperventilating, but right now stopping that didn't have his priority; getting away from his brother did.

He ran through random doors until he reached the courtyard, where he stumbled into the first bush he saw and collapsed unto his knees. Once there, out of sight from anybody, he tried his best to breathe again, but it was easier said than done now. _Why?_ was all he could think. _Why those questions? Why now?_ He clenched his jaws, getting dizzy with lack of oxygen, and fought even harder to control his body again. _Why was I so_ _ **stupid?**_ _If I had been more careful, i-if I had been more_ _ **in control**_ _, I wouldn't be in this mess now!_ How had Holy Rome figured it out, anyway? Prussia hadn't been too careful, he knew, but in all these years no one had ever questioned him like this. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Holy Rome was just genuinely curious, maybe he wasn't on to anything at all. Maybe he was just trying to solve the mystery for himself, how two of his territories had died on the same day.  
But then why would he be asking these things the way he had? If that was the case, he would've gone over it differently, Prussia knew him well enough to know that. It could be only one thing: Holy Rome knew, and by running away like he had, Prussia had only confirmed the empire's suspicions. He knew that his little brother was a murderer.  
 _Now what is he going to do to me?_ he thought desperately, getting sick all over again. _H-he's going to punish me for sure... I_ _ **deserve**_ _to be punished, I_ _ **killed**_ _Bavaria, for God's sake!_ He'd been denying the truth to himself for too long. How he had murdered Bavaria during the Battle of Blindheim was a memory he had tried to drive out just as he was trying to forget the memory of Brandenburg dying in his arms. He kept telling himself that, in his grief and anger, he hadn't been thinking. He had been so broken over losing Brand, he simply wanted revenge, and without thinking he had taken it in the worst way imaginable. But the truth was, he didn't know anymore. He didn't remember if that was the truth, or if it was a lie he had convinced himself of. Either way he was still a murderer, and Holy Rome knew it.  
His stomach seemed to twist completely at that thought, and he felt bile rising in his throat. Now what had he gotten himself into? Prussia, the kingdom that was trying to rise to power in Europe now -a murderer! If anyone else ever found out, Prussia would be in a world of trouble. No one would trust him ever again, not if he'd had the guts to kill his own cousin in cold blood as he had. Bavaria had been defenceless, wounded in her leg from the gunshot from Brandenburg. She hadn't been able to run, she hadn't been able to fight back, and yet he had still _done it._  
The nerves, the fear and most of all the guilt became too much now, and the Prussian promptly threw up on the grass. His stomach was still churning after it though, and he was still trying to control his breathing.  
He hadn't _wanted_ to kill Bavaria, it had just... it had just happened somehow. One moment he'd seen her close to the battlefield, at a safe distance from the battle itself as she waited in vain for her leg to heal, the next she'd lain lifeless at his feet. He didn't even remember _how_ he'd done it. All he knew was that it had happened, and he had never been so sorry about anything in his life.  
"So here's where you're hiding."  
Prussia tensed when he heard Holy Rome's voice behind him, and he couldn't even bring himself to turn around and look at him now. His breath caught in his throat when his brother laid a hand on his shoulder, pulled at him to make him turn around. Slowly he did, moving subconsciously until he faced Holy Rome.  
The empire was staring at him with a cold, emotionless gaze. He was silent for a little while longer, then sighed. "I knew it... For Heaven's sake, why didn't I guess so sooner...?"  
"I-I'm so sorry," Prussia choked out. It was the only thing he knew to say now.  
Holy Rome's gaze softened for only a heartbeat. Then it hardened again. "Do you have any idea what you've done, Prussia?" When Prussia didn't react, he grabbed him by both shoulders and gave him a firm shake, as if to wake him from a trance. "Do you?! Tell me something: did you kill her in battle, or did you seek her out?"  
Prussia closed his eyes now, trying to block out his brother's presence from his mind completely. "I'm... I'm so sorry..."  
"You sought her out," Holy Rome then guessed. "Oh, good, let's make it even worse, why not!"  
"I'm sorry, I am!"  
"So you say," the empire retorted, sounding beyond angry. "You didn't look very sorry to me when Savoy announced her death. When we first saw her body. When we buried her." He slapped his younger brother in the face then, so hard the impact must've been heard throughout the entire coutryard. " _Well?!_ What have you to say for yourself, huh?!"  
Prussia only stared at him for a moment, eyes wide and unable to breathe. Then when he finally founs his voice again, it was so soft he feared Holy Rome wouldn't hear him. "How... how can I ever make it right...?"  
"You can't," was Holy Rome's immediate answer, his voice sounding harsh and unforgiving. But then he sighed and went on: "You can try to redeem yourself, Prussia, but that doesn't undo this. You killed Bavaria, and that is something you can never make right. But you know what you _can_ do?" Prussia was listening intently in an instant, not wanting to miss a single syllable of what his brother would say to him next. Holy Rome's gaze was still cold when he spoke, which chilled Prussia to the bone. "Bavaria is here in Vienna right now, inside the palace. I would say that, no matter what you did, it couldn't bring Bavaria back, but he's here now. That's just how we work. Go inside, go to him, and be a good brother this time around. You can't bring back the old Bavaria, she's gone forever thanks to you. But you can try to make up for it by being there for her reincarnation. Be a real brother for once, or a cousin, or maybe even an uncle -whatever you want to be, so long as you're there for him in this life. You could never get along with Bavaria. Well, you have a second chance now. Make use of that, and maybe I'll consider forgiving you for what you've done."  
Slowly, Prussia nodded, turning his gaze to the ground. "I-I... I will... I swear I will..."  
"Good." Holy Rome sounded a lot calmer now, thankfully. "Go make a start on doing so now -do you need directions?"

Minutes later, Prussia found himself wandering through the halls of the palace again, his feet dragging now. He had sworn to keep this secret forever, and he had failed. But maybe it was better that someone knew -Holy Rome had assured him that, unless they'd figured it out like him- no one else knew about it, and no one else had to know. If Prussia did as he had just promised, he would never tell anyone. That was their deal, and Prussia would keep his end of the promise.  
He halted in front of the door Holy Rome had told him led to Bavaria's room, and he took a deep breath. He had never even seen the new incarnation of Bavaria before, he had always been unable to face him, afraid that he would be reminded of what he did and others would figure it out. But now the secret was out anyway. With trembling fingers, he laid his hand on the door, which was already slightly ajar, and carefully pushed it open.  
The new Bavaria was still just a little boy, with dark hair like Austria but much messier, though Prussia could tell that was only because he was busy playing. He had to admit, it did feel good to see the little country play now, considering what his previous life had been like and how it had ended most of all.  
But after a split second already, that wasn't was Prussia was focused on; Austria was there as well, and so was Hungary. The two sat beside each other, watching Bavaria as the boy performed a trick. Then when the tiny, young country went off to play on his own again, Austria turned to Hungary and...  
...and kissed her.  
And she kissed him back.  
Prussia stood rigid for a moment, his breath robbed from him all over again. His mind couldn't process what he saw for just a heartbeat, then he could nearly punch himself. _You idiot!_ he cursed internally. _How did you not see this in the first place? They've been growing closer to each other for decades -you could've known!_ But he hadn't, and somehow this came as a shock to him now. And when that shock faded, it was replaced by a deep, bitter anger, all directed at Austria.  
 _Of course,_ he thought darkly. _Go ahead, take something else away from me. Like you haven't taken enough yet._ Austria had all the respect from their family that Prussia deserved, he had all the power and status in the world that Prussia was fighting for, and he had never fought for it. It had all been given to him from the moment the Habsburgs rose to power in the Holy Roman Empire. He had never had to fight for his power, only had to fight to keep it as he had it. He had the respect of the Holy Roman Empire himself, something that Prussia seemed to have lost when he became a duchy so long ago, and had never quite regained as it had used to be. He had allies, he had friends, he had people who trusted him, people who actually liked him as a person. In Prussia's case, those kinds of people were still a rarity. His 'allies' over the years had only been in it for the political advantages, of course he knew that.  
And now he also had Hungary?  
Of course he did. Sissy Boy had everything and he hardly had to lift a finger to get it, unlike Prussia, who sometimes felt like he had already lost it all despite having fought all his life for a place in this world.  
Subconsciously, he had clenched his hands into tight fists and gritted his teeth just looking at them. But he forced himself to relax when he heard a child's voice squeak: "Who're you?"  
Then, realising that there was someone else in the room with them, Austria and Hungary parted again and looked at Prussia, saying a soft and polite greeting, sounding mildly surprised to see him there.  
Prussia grumbled back softly that he was there to finally meet Bavaria, then he turned to the child and got onto one knee before him. "Hi there, kid," he began, somehow managing to mask all the anger in his voice. "I'm Prussia. Nice to meet you, Bavaria."  
The kid greeted him back, not sure what to think of the new visitor, but Prussia didn't care anymore. He would keep his promise to Holy Rome, he had no choice but to do so. So he kept up the facade that he actually wanted to be there at that moment, under the watchful eyes of Austria and Hungary.  
But his mind was somewhere else completely, in a much darker place.  
 _That's it, Austria._ He had sworn to himself, long ago already, that he would do everything in his power to prevent himself from slipping, from becoming a murderer. But he already was now, anyway.  
 _You're next._

* * *

 **So.  
Yeah.**

 **I must admit, Abc, when I saw your review a few chapters ago about Holy Rome suspecting Prussia of murdering Bavaria (the "nononono, that not it-" part) my first reaction was "yesyesyesyes, that's definitely it!"  
Because he did... he didn't want to, but he did.**

 **Oh well, some history in here: Frederick William I had at first considered marrying his son to a Russian woman, but as I wrote, the prince of Savoy convinced him not to. Fritz really did suggest marrying Maria Theresia in return for her forfeiting the right to succeed the imperial throne, but that didn't happen, once again thanks to Prince Eugene of Savoy, who then convinced Frederick William to marry Fritz to who eventually became his wife, a relative of the Habsburgs. Fritz also really did consider suicide at that point, but in the end went along with the marriage, though not too willingly.**

 **I hope you liked this chapter, and thanks a lot for reading again!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hiya all!**

 **Like always, first of all a thank you to TheBallisticKnight and pinkdoughnuts, Abc and TheBlueAcid for the follows, favourite and reviews!  
Second, I'm sorry for the feels in the previous chapter, Abc! Haha... I did like your reaction, though!**

 **And then there was something I forgot to mention in the AN in the last chapter, but it was mentioned in canon Hetalia that Prussia hates any word that sounds like 'mark'. I've been wondering about that for a while, until I thought about the _margraviate_ Brandenburg. And yes, that is ' Markgrafentums', or just simply 'Mark', in German. So yeah, that's why... Here's my theory for the so far unexplained aversion Prussia has to the word 'mark'.**

 **Ah well, here's the chapter:**

* * *

"...Then by the power of God, I name you King in Prussia."  
It was late spring 1740, the day of King Frederick II's coronation, and Prussia watched him with more pride than he had any other ruler before him, king or duke or Grand Master. Fritz almost hadn't become king, due to a great many things, and he had given Prussia a headache even without political background more than once. But here he stood, as the new King in Prussia, and Prussia could not have been more proud.  
Frederick William had died mere days before, on 31 May 1740, at the age of 51. He had ruled for 27 years and, though they had their differences and more fights than Prussia could ever hope to count, he had been a good king. Fritz's father and grandfather had given him the base of a potentially mighty kingdom, and Prussia had good faith that Fritz would deliver him that might. Soon he would be more powerful than anyone could have ever imagined. A force to be reckoned with, a presence that could not be overlooked. The main powers in Europe now were the United Kingdom, which consisted of England, Scotland and Wales, France, Sweden and Austria. Soon Prussia would be among them.  
King Frederick William I had been a frugal monarch, and though it could sometimes annoy Prussia, who wanted nothing more than to showcase his greatness, the kingdom could not deny that he had never felt this healthy and strong before, even after his brief involvement in the War of Polish Succession in the previous decade. And the human had left his son with a great army, ready for any war should it come on their path.  
When the ceremony was nearly done, Prussia approached his new king like he had the two before him, and knelt down before him. Just as he was about to swear his undying loyalty, as was a custom during the coronation of a new monarch, Fritz lightly tapped him on the shoulder.  
"Get up, Prussia," he said softly. "There is no need for this."  
Confused, Prussia furrowed his brows, but did as he was told. The last thing he wanted was to ignore the first order his new king had ever given him. He could only just manage to stay quiet when, much to his surprise, Fritz knelt down instead.  
The young king carefully grabbed one of Prussia's hands as he was kneeling on the floor, and lightly kissed the back of it. "I hereby swear that I shall serve the people of this kingdom until I draw my final breath. Prussia, you are my destiny, and I shall never run from you again for as long as I live. From this moment onward, every beat of my heart shall be in service of you, my kingdom, and of the people that you represent, from the tiniest newborn to the oldest civilian." As Fritz spoke, it seemed as if no other sound existed anymore. The people gathered there for the coronation were quiet as the snowfall in winters, still as statues. Every king swore his loyalty to his kingdom and his people, but this was unprecedented. "It is not my wish to be above the people of Prussia. Therefore, it is unfitting for the sole representative of all those people to kneel before me. It is I who should bow before my people, for in my position as King in Prussia, I am no more than the first servant of the state."  
With every word that Fritz spoke, Prussia's heart fluttered more lightly in his chest, until he felt like it could float out if he wasn't careful. He could tell that his people were part of what brought this about, as they were moved by the king's words as much as Prussia himself was.  
Still, Prussia was somewhat relieved when Fritz got up again and let go of his hand. This had never happened before, and he had no idea how to react to it. Was he expected to respond now? And if so, in what way? He decided to stay quiet, and thankfully no one seemed to notice that he was simpy lost for words now.

Much to his relief, the rest of the ceremony went by quickly, and he finally had a moment alone with Fritz barely an hour later.  
Even though the human was closer to his 30s than anything else now, and looked more than a decade older than Prussia these days, their relationship had stayed the same over the years. They were each other's closest friends, sometimes like brothers to one another, but most of all they could always speak to each other on more familiar terms than Fritz could with most of his family, even. Just as it had always been.  
"Why did you do that?" Prussia whispered to Fritz, pulling him away from where the other people now were so that they could have some privacy. "That was both the most awesome and the _least_ awesome thing you've ever done!"  
Fritz just chuckled and shook his head, amused. "Aw, poor thing," he replied softly, eyes twinkling with joy. "Didn't you know how to respond? Would you rather have been prepared for it? But that would've spoiled it, Prussia," he added with a warm smile. "I liked seeing the surprise in your eyes, you know. It somehow makes you look more childlike and innocent than you have done in years, and that was a wonderful thing to see again."  
"Childlike?" Prussia echoed with a grimace. Was that how he had looked just then, in front of so many people? Way to make an impression as a mighty kingdom. "Fritz, you unawesome little brat! That is _not_ the impression I want to make on people!"  
But Fritz shook his head when his kingdom fell quiet again, and looked at him silently for a moment. "It is a good thing, Prussia," he tried to assure the kingdom. "Trust me. I know how much you want to be, but you are not an adult yet. And yet, the past few years you've been..." He trailed off, looking for the right words. The king sighed after a few seconds and decided to go with the few things he had thought of. "Heavy, I think. Emotionally I mean, of course. I cannot describe it well, Prussia, but it was... Well, anyone could tell that you've had a lot on your mind the past decade. You looked like you carried with you the troubles of a dozen lifetimes or more, and especially on someone so young, it is a worrying sight to see."  
"I'm not exactly young," Prussia countered, shrugging. He knew what Fritz was talking about, but he didn't want this topic to come up now. So far, everytime Fritz had tried to get him to talk, Prussia had pushed him away and kept up his walls. This was the one thing he didn't want to discuss, and with that also the only thing that had changed in their relationship -it was the first time that Prussia felt he couldn't tell his dear friend everything, and that Fritz realised the kingdom had built a wall impenetrable even for him. But he kept on trying.  
"I know that, but you look young," the king just tried, realising now that his words wouldn't have an effect anyway. "And I think, Prussia, that it is much more reassuring for the people to see you like you were just now, childlike and a little awkward, than as if you're carrying the weight of the world around."  
Prussia was silent for a moment, staring at the wall without really looking at anything in particular, pondering. Fritz was right, he'd had a perpetual foul mood for years now, kind of like he had back in the time after Brandenburg had died. The knowledge that Holy Rome knew about the worst crime he had committed in his entire life so far weighed heavily on his mind and heart, and he vowed to himself every single day that he would never do anything like it again, and that he would do anything he could to make up for his horrible deed. Yet his mind reeled with the complete opposite of that resolve; the desire to rip Austria to shreds became deeper every single time he saw the man. Seeing him during Fritz's wedding years ago had been bearable, even though seeing Hungary by his side had stabbed him like a sword. He was used to getting stabbed, after all. He could handle that. Then when he saw Austria again nearly a year after that, Prussia had felt the strangest and darkest satisfaction he had ever felt yet, when he overheard his cousin arguing with Hungary. He had prayed to God that they would argue some more, and then some more, have it turn into a fight and then an end to their relationship in every form and shape. He had never been happy about seeing someone in pain, until he saw Austria just a day after the aristocrat had had an accident of some sort.  
But then, when he saw Hungary caring for the Austrian, tending to his broken arm in a gentle and loving manner, it had opened up wounds in his heart much deeper than Austria's already recovering injuries.  
Whenever he even so much as thought about Austria, the man who had it all, he realised how great the differences between them were, and the thought simply left him in despair.  
But he would never speak of it.  
"Prussia..." Fritz began softly, cutting into Prussia's thoughts and bringing him back to the present.  
Prussia just shook his head as though he could clear his mind like that, and grinned at his new king. "I'm fine, Fritz, really. But say, you made a promise some years back." His grin got wider now, some of it genuine happiness, but most of it a mask. "When can I start my studies at a university?"

* * *

 _30 Ocotber 1740_

 _The Holy Roman Emperor died yesterday, we got word of that just now. Of course, for such a major event, I started writing immediately._  
 _Why is it so major?_  
 _Because his successor is Maria Theresia._  
 _A woman is now to lead the Holy Roman Empire? I will not stand for that! Fritz, too, seemed rather displeased when he heard this news. He had been telling me that he wants to expand the kingdom for some time now, and this is probably the chance he had been waiting for._  
 _Later this evening there will be a meeting with the army's top generals and colonels. And if my passive little king is inviting the army... I'm looking forward to it._  
 _Death to the Empire of Skirts. Austria will wish the Pragmatic Sanction of 1713 had never even been dreamt of._

Later that day, Prussia had felt a little uneasy about what he'd written down in his journal. 'Death to the Empire' sounded like he wanted Holy Rome to die, which he most certainly didn't. What if anyone ever read it? It's not like that had never happened before, after all.  
But then when the meeting began, he forgot it immediately. This was it: now he would find out for sure what Fritz was planning to do about the new Empress and the land he wanted.  
"It's good that you all managed to come here so quickly, men," Fritz spoke to the people who had gathered there; it wasn't everyone yet, but there were enough to make proper decisions right this evening if they wanted to. But of course, Fritz was the king now, he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. These people were only here to give their monarch advice if needed. "As you are all aware," the new king went on, his voice devoid of any emotion. Prussia was impressed; Fritz had shown to be capable of switching his character from the culture-loving philosopher he was to that of a strategic, intelligent and charismatic ruler, not unlike his father had been but at the same time still very different. Fritz narrowed his eyes for only a very brief moment before he went on. "Soon, the new _empress_ of the Holy Roman Empire will be crowned. Now I wonder, what proper king would allow a _woman_ to become one of the most powerful people on this planet?" He paused then, letting those words sink in before he continued. "Personally I think it is unacceptable that three of the major powers in this part of the world -England, Russia and now Austria too- have been or are currently ruled over by these weaker humans. When has a woman ever won a war? When has a woman ever built a strong kingdom or empire? We cannot allow Maria Theresia to weaken the Holy Roman empire. Even less so can I allow a woman to have influence in my affairs, in how I rule _my_ kingdom." He paused again, looking at each of the humans in turn, then lastly locking his gaze with Prussia's. The kingdom nodded slowly, agreeing with every word he'd heard so far. "We all know how much the Habsburgs like to meddle with Prussia, a kingdom that has nothing to do with their precious little empire. With Maria Theresia on the throne, this fact infuriates me more than ever before."  
"So what do you propose we do about her, Your Majesty?" one of the men then asked politely.  
Fritz didn't answer immediately. Again, he looked at Prussia, almost as if to ask for a confirmation that he was doing well so far, reassurance that he had his kingdom's support. Then he sighed. "Well, I suppose I can look the other way," he answered, sounding almost bored. "Accept Maria Theresia's ascending the imperial throne. If she were to give us control over Silesia, I suppose I could be convinced to do so. Maybe."  
"You're planning to ask her for Silesia?" Fritz's younger brother, Augustus William, then demanded, narrowing his eyes as he did so. "And you think she will just give it to us? Your Majesty, I'm afraid such a tactic-"  
"I didn't say anything about asking her for it," Fritz interrupted the younger man dismissively. "Considering we might well have competition to get control over Silesia, I think it would be wise to move as quickly and efficiently as possible. I've no doubt that our dear friend Augustus III also seeks to capture Silesia from Austria to connect Poland and Saxony. We must be there before they are."  
Prussia glanced around at the army officers. Their eyes glinted with excitement and an early sense of triumph at the prospect of expanding their kingdom. The albino smirked. Now this was what he liked. Very much so.  
Fritz, too, saw that his people agreed with him. Pleased, he turned to Prussia. "Well then," he began. "Prussia, I'm leaving the final decision with you: how should we act?"  
His grin grew wider, and an almost animalistic growl rose in Prussia's throat, one of pure delight over what his king had just offered him. "We shall take Silesia," he said, relishing every word. "And we shall take it by force. Austria won't know what happened to him. And when I'm done with that sissy aristocrat, we will have established this kingdom as a European major power once and for all." He got to his feet now, raising his voice. "Our army will _crush_ Austria and take everything he holds dear! His _dignity_ , his _status_... his _woman_ if need be." Some of the generals looked shocked at what they thought was a suggestion to get rid of Maria Theresia altogether, but the empress was the last person Prussia was thinking about now. _Hungary will be mine._ "Let's show the world that there is no underestimating the Kingdom of Prussia!"  
The humans were all silent, some staring at Prussia wide-eyed, and only then did the kingdom realise that he was still grinning and even chuckling softly at the thought of completely crushing his own cousin. Quickly he fought back this emotions the moment he saw even Fritz stare at him in complete shock.  
Then, after that moment of shocked silence in the room, Fritz cleared his throat. "Well, now that we've got that settled," he began matter-of-factly, as if nothing at all had happened. "When is the soonest that we can we mobilise the army?"

* * *

Months later, Prussia found himself in Silesia with his army. It was early 1741, and the Prussian army had managed to occupy nearly all of Silesia in just a few weeks' time. Only the fortresses in Brieg, Breslau and Glogau weren't under his control yet.  
Satisfied with the progress they'd made in just two months, Prussia stood on the walls of the fortress near Ohlau, which they had taken and turned into their winter residence. It was freezing outside and the harsh winds blew snow into his face, which stuck in his hair and melted on his skin, dripping into his clothes. But he didn't even feel the cold now; the fire that burned inside of him blazed stronger than ever before. Soon he would feel the satisfaction of humiliating Austria, see the look on his face as he took everything away from him.  
"Austria must be mobillising his army by now, too," he mumbled to himself, smiling at the thought. "Awesome..."  
Suddenly a voice pierced the cold winds that roared in his ears, and the kingdom looked to his left. A young soldier was making his way over the wall to him. "Sir!" he called out, sounding uneasy. "Sir, o-on the order of His Majesty, King Frederick, I was told to retrieve you from here."  
Prussia stared at him in silence, raising an eyebrow. Fritz was seriously sending a mere boy up here just to get Prussia inside? What utter nonsense. The kingdom just sighed and stared out over the land he had occupied so swiftly again. "You should head inside, boy," he said dismissively. "You'll freeze to death up here."  
"I could say the same for you, sir," was the young man's immediate and rather blunt answer. But he couldn't anger Prussia: this was one of his own people, and he was merely acting on Fritz's request, perhaps partly out of his own worry for their kingdom, too. But Prussia didn't need anyone to worry about him, and he never had. For as long as he'd lived, he'd looked after himself. Back when he had still been the Monastic State of the Teutonic Order, his Grand Masters had trusted him enough to let him live on his own, and he'd been a mere child back then. Now his body looked only a year or 2, maybe 3 younger than the soldier beside him did, and he was well over a millenium old. He knew how to take care of himself better than anyone did.  
When Prussia didn't react, the young soldier stifled a sigh. "Look, sir, please follow His Majesty's orders; you're soaked and it's freezing. I doubt anyone can stand in this weather for too long, and that includes, er... immortals."  
At this obvious hesitation before saying the word 'immortals', Prussia glanced at the soldier, eyes flashing with anger. "What was that?" he muttered darkly, narrowing his eyes. "Did I hear disbelief in your voice just now? What's the matter, don't you believe that I'm immortal? Well, go on, spit it out!"  
The soldier hesitated, struggling to come up with a proper answer to that question. Then he sighed. "Well, sir, to be completely honest with you," he began politely, averting his gaze. "It's a bit hard to believe. You look as human as any of us and... well... frankly, you look like you're too young to even be here right now, fighting in the army."  
Prussia had to remind himself that this was one of his own soldiers over and over again, just so that he wouldn't lash out at him. Not physically at least. "Oh, really? Let me inform you, I was there the day that Fritz was born, and his father, his grandfather and so on. I was there the day that Albert of Hohenzollern seperated from the Teutonic Knights and created the Duchy of Prussia. Even further back, I fought in the Prussian Conquest. But I'm too young to be a soldier, you say?" He snorted and looked out over what now looked like a snowy wasteland once more. "If you neef proof of my immortality, I can jump off this wall for you. It'd hurt and I'd be bedridden for... a week, maybe?... but I suppose, if it is to convince my soldiers of who I am-"  
" _No_ , sir," the soldier quickly interrupted him, sounding utterly distressed now. "That won't be necessary. I-I'm sorry for my behaviour. B-but please, H-His Majesty wants you inside."  
Prussia huffed and closed his eyes. "Fine, then. If Fritz wants me to..." Then he quietly followed the human back inside.  
In all honesty, Prussia really was glad to be back inside. He hadn't realised just how cold it was, and now that he was surrounded by warmer air, he realised just how cold the water that trickled down his body was. Still, he suppressed a shiver for as long as that one soldier could still see him. The human led him to where Fritz was discussing things with some other soldiers. The moment the king caught sight of Prussia, his eyes widened and he brought an abrupt end to his conversation, walking over to his kingdom with quick paces and an expression somewhere between angry and worried.  
"Prussia!" he scolded the albino before he had even reached him. "You utter _fool!_ Going outside in a snowstorm-"  
"It's storming outside?" Prussia interrupted, confused. Fritz fell silent immediately, his expression growing even more worried when the kingdom asked: "I mean, yeah, the wind was pretty strong, but-"  
"You really didn't realise it was storming?" the soldier who had come to get Prussia off the wall then asked, stunned.  
Now, Prussia looked at him, too, growing even more confused. "I've seen plenty of storms over the centuries," he stammered, "and this was not one of them."  
"Oh, really?" Fritz then brought in, all the anger out of his voice now, and instead he spoke with pure worry dripping from his words. "Then explain to me why else I've ordered my men to stay inside until the weather is safer again?"  
Prussia stared at him in silence now, not comprehending what was going on at all anymore. He felt absolutely fine, so he would've noticed something like that. It's not like he couldn't see straight or think straight or anything. But glancing around at the humans surrounding him, he saw the same look in everyone's eyes: confusion, worry, a hint of fear here and there.  
"What are you all staring at?" he demanded, getting frustrated now. He hated it when people played jokes on him, especially when they did so in a group. "Are you really such sissies that you can't handle a bit of snow without calling it a snowstorm?" But by now Prussia's frustration was more because he began to realise that he was wrong, and they were right. Their emotions looked too genuine to be a joke, and the kingdom realised he could hear the wind roaring outside even here. How had he not realised he had been standing in the middle of a frickin' _snowstorm_?  
"Prussia," came Fritz's calm voice, cutting into his thoughts and pulling his attention away from all the other humans. "Please go to your room and change into something dry, you're shivering." So he was. Another thing he hadn't noticed until now. "I need to finish this discussion here, but I'll come shortly. By then, you'd better be wearing something warm and dry again. You," he then added to the soldier he'd ordered to get Prussia. "You should do the same thing; you look wet and cold as well, and stupid as his actions can sometimes be, I cannot deny that Prussia's body can handle much more than anyone else's. He'll probably get out of this with just a cold, if anything at all, but if you're not careful now, you won't be so lucky. Also, once you've done so, it would be wise to get something warm to eat or drink, too. And if you could send someone up to bring something to Prussia, too, when you do so... that would be appreciated." With a sideward glance at his kingdom, the young king added more softly: "I believe our country has already come down with something after all."  
"I'm fine!" Prussia protested, though he wasn't too certain of that anymore now.  
But Fritz shook his head. "You may _feel_ fine, Prussia, but trust me when I say you're most definitely _not_." With a final pat on his kingdom's soaked shoulder, he repeated: "Go to your room and get changed, Prussia. I'll be with you shortly."  
The human soldier was already leaving, but Prussia stared at his king for a moment longer. Seriously, what had just happened? Just minutes ago he had been feeling perfectly fine, and now he was being told that he, somehow, he had been so thoroughly confused he hadn't even noticed the severity of the _weather_? With a huff, he turned around and walked away to do as he was told, his mind reeling. What was going on with him, really?

* * *

Some time later, Prussia lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was mostly dry now, but still cold, but most of all his mind was still going on overdrive to figure out what had gone wrong with his thoughts that afternoon. Every now and then he would glance at the bowl of steaming... mushy stuff... that had been brought up to his room. It was still steaming now, so even though he felt like he had been up there on his own for ages, it couldn't have been long yet.  
Suddenly his door opened, creaking loudly, revealing Fritz. The man closed the door behind him and even went as far as to bar it. When he saw the look Prussia gave him for that, he shrugged. "To keep everyone else out," was all he said on the matter, "and to keep you in." He frowned when he saw Prussia still shivering lightly, and sighed. "Have you eaten yet, Prussia?" Prussia only shook his head. "Go do so now. Trust me, it'll help warm you up again."  
"It hardly looks edible," Prussia complained, giving the food a distrusting stare. "Don't wanna try it."  
Fritz raised an eyebrow at this and chuckled. "My, have you gotten too used to luxury, Prussia? It's perfectly edible and you know it; it's just a bit of meat and carrots mashed together, anyway."  
"It's soupy slob," the kingdom protested, huffing angrily. "And it smells foul."  
"You think so? Personally, I quite like the smell of it."  
"You're not going to convince me. I'm not hungry."  
Fritz sighed and sat down beside Prussia, giving the country a hard stare. "Really now, Prussia? This phase again?" Prussia huffed again and muttered something about not being hungry having nothing to do with a 'phase', and then something about Fritz being a nosy jerk. "Well, you've been like this off and on for the past years, after all, I think it _is_ ," Fritz countered, ignoring the insult. "But that's beside the point. Just eat, Prussia, even if it's just a bit."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment, then got up and grabbed the bowl after all, tentatively eating a little. After just two bites, he had to really try hard not to show how good it felt to have something warm inside his chilled body now, just as Fritz had predicted it would.  
Fritz waited until his friend had eaten a bit, then decided to go on. "It's about time you started talking, Prussia," he began carefully. "You know as well as I do that what happened earlier is only the most recent of many such things -you _do_ remember, don't you?"  
Prussia hesitated a moment, but not because he'd forgotten. He sighed deeply, setting aside his food again. And here was the reason he hadn't wanted to eat in the first place; if he had been slightly hungry at all, Fritz was now going to ruin his appetite with his annoying prying. "I remember, don't worry," he muttered, averting his gaze. Just weeks ago, Prussia had completely forgotten where they were, and it had only been 5 days since he and Fritz and some high-ranking officers had held a strategy meeting, and somewhere in the middle of it, Prussia had simply forgotten everything that had been said so far. Really, he'd been very close to forgetting what they had been doing there in the first place. He'd been so embarassed that something like that had happened in front of people other than Fritz, he thought he'd never manage to forget it again. And those hadn't been the only things.  
"Prussia, I'm worried about you," Fritz then said, looking at Prussia wide-eyed. "You've been so distracted lately, and not just that. If you didn't even realise that it was storming when you were standing on top of the walls..." He narrowed his eyes, which darkened slightly. "Talk to me, Prussia."  
Prussia only felt choked up now, for reasons he didn't quite comprehend himself. Was it really so obvious that everything that had been going on with him, had an emotional basis rather than a physical one? He knew he probably needed to talk it off, like Fritz wanted him to... but not now. He still wasn't quite ready yet, not when he was still figuring stuff out himself.  
Fritz waited for a few minutes, and Prussia was impressed by his patience once again. But eventually the king sighed. "Still not ready to talk?" Prussia shook his head, still keeping his lips pressed together tightly, and the human let his shoulders hang in defeat. "All right, then," he said, sounding more tired than ever before. "Then I suppose I'll have no choice but to do the guessing-game with you, huh?" He paused for a moment, letting those words sink in and giving Prussia time to start talking himself, but the kingdom looked away, refusing to talk. "You know that I can tell from your eyes whether your answers are 'yes' or 'no', right? Well then... Are you worried by the war?"  
Prussia didn't even _try_ to hide the answer to that question; he rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
"Well, that one's clear. Then, is this _worry_ about anything at all?" A pause again. "No, all right." Fritz fell silent, nibbling on the inside of his lips, wondering what to ask next. "Then I'll go for emotions now, I guess, to narrow down the list. Are you afraid of anything?"  
That question hit close to home to Prussia, and his heartbeat picked up. _Holy Rome._ For years now, he had been terrified of the thought that, maybe one day, his brother would break his promise and reveal Prussia's secret, that he had killed Bavaria. Immediately he tried to hide this emotion, but he knew it was too late for that. Fritz knew him so well, he needed only a glimpse to read Prussia like a book once he got a hole in the kingdom's high walls.  
"Fear it is, then," the man concluded with a satisfied nod. But then his eyes clouded with worry for his friend again. "Prussia, what is it you're so afraid of that it can affect you to this point? You _need_ to tell me." He then proceeded to grab Prussia's chin and turn his face in his direction, so that they looked each other in the eyes. "Trust me."  
Prussia hesitated, but the longer he did so, the more choked up he got, and eventually he gave in. Heart pounding in his chest, he sighed. "I... I once did something horrible, Fritz," he whispered hoarsely. "Something so terrible, I fear my soul is rotten to the core already. But that's not... not the worst." He took in a shaky breath, and exhaled slowly. "Fritz, I... I killed someone I shouldn't have. N-not a soldier on a battlefield... a wounded, defenceless girl... out of revenge." Something flashed in Fritz's eyes, but he remained quiet. "A-and Holy Rome knows it... I'm scared that he'll tell someone else..." He paused for a moment, staring at Fritz a little longer, then slid down to lay his head on his friend's lap. "And that's all you're getting from me today." This was a confession he hadn't made before yet to anyone. But Fritz had been right when he told Prussia to trust him; if there was anyone he could trust, it was his dearest friend.  
"So there's more," Fritz immediately guessed as he began stroking Prussia's white hair, of which some strands were still dripping with icy cold water. "That means my game isn't over yet."  
" _Fritz-_ "  
"Because, Prussia, listening to you just now," Fritz went on, ignoring Prussia's protest, "I think I've figured out the second emotion you're dealing with. Sadness. Am I right?"  
Prussia let out yet another shaky sigh, and Fritz concluded that he was indeed right. "You're too easy, Prussia," he chuckled softly. "Once you take these more... 'drastic' measures to get information out of you, you're like an open book, you know that? But that's a good thing." He stopped talking again, continuing to stroke Prussia's damp hair in such a soothing manner that the kingdom thought he could fall asleep like that, despite part of him willing the king to stop doing so right now -he wasn't a child after all. "You don't need to tell me everything," Fritz whispered eventually. "But do tell me a bit of it. What are you sad about, Prussia? Can I help at all?"  
Prussia hesitated, wondering how much he should tell. But then an image came to mind again, of Austria talking to Holy Rome, of Austria raising the new Bavaria... and of Austria being with Hungary. And those things now broke down enough of his walls to let another sentence through, just one other. But that one sentence was more than enough.  
"I hate being alone..."  
A silence then fell in the room, longer and more uncomfortable than before, and Prussia could nearly slap himself. Alone? He had Fritz, for God's sake! But then he told himself that Fritz wasn't immortal, and the human realised this very well. They had never talked about it, but they both knew that Fritz was only a temporary friend for Prussia, while Prussia would be Fritz's friend all his life. They both trusted that their friendship would never fade, but at the same time they knew that, eventually, one would be left alone for eternity.  
Fritz had already told Prussia that he should try to stay more in contact with other immortals, even if it was only writing to each other like Fritz had done with the French philosopher and writer Voltaire. But then Prussia told him that there was no immortal who wanted anything to do with him, anyway, just like it always had been now that Brandenburg was gone and Holy Rome spent his days with Austria.  
Still, after a while, Fritz sighed. "You know what, Prussia?" he said softly, and Prussia could almost _hear_ the smile on the human's face now. "I believe I _can_ help you with that."

* * *

 **Don't worry, dear Old Fritz is going to solve his little kingdom buddy's loneliness problem. He's a good king like that.**

 **So, the War of Austrian Succession is on! That's going to be a lot of studying for me *sigh* As if school isn't making me do so enough yet. But I'm going to enjoy this (stopmeIamsuchanerd)**

 **I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading!**


	36. Chapter 36

**Well, I have another quick chapter ready... quick as in, well... done quickly.**

 **And by the love of Prussia, people, we've passed 100 reviews on this story! That's the most I've had on a single fic since forever. Thank you all so much for the feedback!  
Now here's the weird thing though: the number of reviews is up-to-date, but somehow, all the reviews you guys have written don't show up in the review section... which to me isn't a problem, I can read them in my inbox when I get them. Still, this is the first time that has happened. Weird.**

 **Okay, long list today: Marykim20, thanks for the follow! The Queen of Night, thanks for the favourite and review! And then, also a huge thank you to Abc, Tius, TheBlueAcid and pinkdoughnuts and MissiriKoharehn for the reviews!  
Well, one or two people guessed right ;)  
And also, Queen of Night: I was actually planning to introduce America a few chapters from now. It will probably only be a single chapter, but I hope to make it a good one!**

 **Ah, this chapter should be a little more light-hearted overall, except for one little thingy... sorry 'bout that one.**

* * *

 _5 June 1741_

 _Today the document to be known as the Treaty of Breslau was signed, and I met my two new allies in this war. Really, only one of those was actually a part of this treaty, but the other decided to come, too._  
 _Fritz told me this was his solution for my 'loneliness' (what loneliness, for God's sake -I was being unawesome when I complained about that. Of course I can handle being alone. I'm so awesome, I count for two people, anyway) but I'm not sure this is the right choice... So far I've never gotten along well with them. More often than not, they've been my enemies in war._  
 _I'm especially unhappy about Stubble._

Just minutes after writing in his journal about the events of that day, Prussia once again found himself face to face with his allies. France looked as unimpressed with him as he was with France, Spain didn't seem to care about either of them, and the feeling appeared to be mutual.  
There was no way this alliance was going to work.  
"You should know," Prussia said began flatly, picking at the olives that lay on a small platter -at least Spain had been courteous enough to bring food as he barged in at the signing of a treaty he had nothing to do with. "I'm only in this for Silesia." Having said that, the Prussian picked up one of those oily-looking tiny balls and decided to just try one. "Oh," he added almost immediately, pleasantly surprised. "Scratch that, I'm only in this for Silesia and olives. That's some good stuff."  
"Thanks," Spain just muttered, raising an eyebrow at the albino, probably trying to judge his young ally. That was one of the things that Prussia hated about this alliance -he was the child of the trio. Spain and France were both full grown, adult _nations_ -they had well surpassed the status of being a mere 'country', they were too well-organised and powerful for that. Prussia, though strong and far ahead of some other countries on certain levels, was still at the point of having to prove himself to the world, and hadn't grown more than a centimetre or two over the past century, after the political changes he'd gone through since then -becoming independent from Poland, becoming a kingdom. So far neither of those had really contributed to his growth.  
So here he was, the incarnation of Awesome, the future strongest country in Europe, barely reaching up to his allies' chins. That really gave a good impression.  
"And what about Austria?" France then demanded with narrowed blue eyes. "I thought you wanted to do something about that little jerk, too."  
"Oh, sure," Prussia answered, shrugging. Once again his lips twisted into a grin as he imagined the pain he would inflict on his cousin. "But what do you think will go down in history better, France: how we waltzed up to Vienna and kicked him off his throne, or how we brought that throne to crumble away beneath him without that aristocrat realising it before it's too late?" He chuckled at the thought, grabbing another olive. "Nah, I'd rather watch him suffer first. And you know how you make people suffer, France? You don't strike them in the heart, no... you strike them in the limbs. Gut, if you're in a hurry. Watch them bleed out slowly, see the look in their eyes as they begin to realise that their life force is flowing out of them and cannot be regained. See the fear in their eyes when they begin to see that it's the end for them."  
Spain grimaced at this, disgusted. "You're a sick little jerk, you know that?"  
"Well," Prussia shrugged, still munching on the olive, "that's just what I want to do about Austria. If you don't like it, blame mr Stubble there, he's the one who asked."  
France immediately glared at the younger kingdom, clearly not pleased with the nickname he'd gotten. "Oh, please," he huffed, looking down at Prussia to make his next point even more clear. "You're just frustrated that _you've_ never had to shave yet, aren't you, _petit garcon?_ "  
At this, Prussia returned the glare tenfold. "I'm _not_ a little boy," he snapped. "You'd better take that back!"  
Spain looked like he wanted to interfere now, appearing a little distressed at the obvious hostility between his two allies. But he didn't get the chance to do anything before France chuckled mockingly. "Ah, I see you've still got the same temper as way back when," the oldest of the three immortals said softly. "Still as ungrateful as back then, too. I've saved your life then, I'm saving your army now, and in both situations you decided to repay me with insults. You've had a great upbringing."  
"I told you back then and I'm telling you again," Prussia muttered, willing the Frenchman to die already with his glare. "You've _never_ saved me from a situation that I couldn't have saved myself from, and you'll _never_ do so."  
"Oi, hey!" Spain then interrupted, sounding agitated. "I'm here, too! Yeah, we all notice me now? Good." When both France and Prussia were looking at him, he huffed and folded his arms over his chest, looking quiet unhappy with both his allies now. "I agree with France, Prussia: you've got quite the temper, and you've got to work on that if you want our continued support. France," he added with a glare in his neighbouring country's direction. "You do _not_ call countries as old as Prussia a little boy, he was right to feel insulted." Then he fell silent, and all anger and frustration was washed from his face immediately, replaced by a mild curiosity as he turned to stare at Prussia again. "Eh... how old are you, anyway? You've always looked younger than I imagined."  
"I've just turned 549 a few months ago," Prussia answered matter-of-factly, though he was subconsciously straigtening his back a little as he said that. _That's right, I'm over a millenium old now. How do you like that?_ He was already beginning to grin a little, waiting for their reaction.  
Spain and France both looked stunned and confused rather than impressed, as they stared at each other the moment Prussia said this. Then, almost simultaneously, they burst out laughing, wiping the grin off Prussia's face in an instant. What was there to laugh about?!  
"Oh God," Spain choked out, out of breath with laughter and doubling over by now. "I-I knew we were older than you, but... hee!... I di-didn't think we would... we would..." He laughed too hard to talk anymore now, and Prussia felt a strangely strong desire to kick him in the face for it.  
France, who controlled himself a little more than the Spaniard, but really only a little, tried to finish for the other nation. "What _mon ami_ is trying to -to say, _Prusse_... We didn't think we'd have to..."  
" _Babysit!_ " Spain then choked out with his last breath before collapsing onto the floor laughing.  
Prussia stared down at him, pulse racing in anger. Gritting his teeth, he glared murderously as the two older countries. "I think you must've misheard me," he grumbled darkly. "I just said I'm well over 500 years old!"  
"I know, I heard," France answered, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Then he reached out to pat Prussia's head, and the younger kingdom was too angry and confused to react in time to stop him. "Come back when you've reached 1000. Until then, we'll just be your babysitters in this war, _petit garcon._ "  
Prussia waited until they were both silent again, Spain heaving himself back to his feet after a little while. He just stared at them with a blank gaze, and sighed when they finally looked back at him. "I really hate you both, you know that?"  
Then, suddenly, the door to the room they were in opened, revealing all three countries' leaders. The three men each looked at their kingdoms for a moment, surprised, and then Fritz was the first to start smiling. "Well, judging from the laughter we heard just now," he concluded happily, "I think this alliance will go splendidly."  
"Oh, yes!" Spain answered with a bright smile, pulling France and Prussia against him in a 'friendly' hug. "Don't you worry, Your Majesty, the three of us will most certainly become great friends, I've no doubt about it!"  
All the humans, though a little confused, looked pleased at this. Prussia... not so much. Wide-eyed, he stared at his king, mouthing to him 'save me!', but Fritz only smirked, a twinkle in his eyes answering wordlessly: 'no way'.  
Then the humans left again, and immediately, Spain forcefully pushed France and Prussia off him again, grimacing as he picked at the sleeves of his red coat. "Ugh, what a waste," he muttered under his breath. "I'll have to burn this now..."  
"I hate you, too, _Espagne_."  
"Not as much as I do _both_ of you."

* * *

In the end, despite the odds, the trio actually _did_ become friends. More or less. In all honestly, neither of them knew what to think of each other, but they got along well despite really just not being able to stand each other. It was a weird but effective alliance. They had eventually decided that, for now, they had one thing in common that they would be better of focusing on rather than their many differences.  
Namely, they all hated Austria.  
"He's a stuck-up little prick," Prussia complained one night, when there wasn't a battle for them to worry about and they had gotten together to get drunk. "I've hated him from the moment I laid eyes on him. Naturally, the same didn't apply the other way around -mainly because he's blind as a bat and couldn't even see me."  
France and Spain chuckled at this. "All you need to do nowadays is knock off those glasses he wears," Spain then informed his two friends. "Trust me, I've had to live with him long enough to know -he's gotten too used to having them. Flies right into a panic attack if he loses 'em in the middle of something important."  
"Always good to know," France laughed softly, taking another swig of the wine he'd brought with him. "You're not alone in this, Prussia; I've hated him since forever as well."  
"I've noticed."  
"I haven't hated him since _forever_ ," Spain admitted, having a hard time deciding whether he would get himself another glass of France's wine, or if he would try Prussia's beer next. "But I have never liked him much. And then he went and _cheated_ on me with his Hungarian _maid._ " When France and Prussia gave him a weird stare at this, the drunk Spaniard shrugged. "What? That I didn't _want_ to be married to the jerk, doesn't justify him going off with Hungary before we even got divorced!"  
France laughed at this, but Prussia couldn't. _That was ages ago,_ he realised even in his alcohol-fogged mind. _So that's how long those two have been together?_ The thought stabbed him like a dagger in the heart, yet another one, somehow managing to find a spot where there was still room to thrust a knife in.  
France and Spain didn't notice this. Instead, France sighed in delight, grinning as he said to Spain: "You know what I also like about this war? We get another chance to beat up our little brother, another stick-up-the-ass jerk."  
"Oh, yeah, I've been waiting for this one," Spain agreed, slurring a little.  
Prussia stared at them, utterly confused. He had known these two were related through the Roman blood that ran in their veins, but he couldn't figure out who they were talking about now. "You have a little brother among our little group of enemies?"  
The two nations glanced at him and answered simultaneously: "England."  
" _England?!_ " Prussia choked out, coughing up some beer that had gone down the wrong end of his throat just now. "But you- he-"  
"He's the son of Rome, too, you know," France said with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, but he has not inherited the natural superiority we Roman countries have. He has no grace, no manners, no _nothing._ "  
"Inherited too many of Britannia's genes, that one," Spain agreed with a solemn, very serious nod, as if he were discussing the meaning of life with France just now and had just found the answer. "That's what you get when you have _two_ parents, I suppose. You never know which genes are the dominant ones. He was just unlucky in that respect, the poor thing."  
"Especially since he got his mother's eyebrows," France snickered, quickly drinking the last of his wine. "Ah well... I suppose he would've turned out even worse if he had _no_ Roman inside him at all." The Frenchman then looked at Prussia with narrowed, curious eyes. "Hey, _Prusse_ ," he began, sounding very serious for once. "You say you're German, but doesn't that mean you were, ehm... Now how should I put this...?" He thought for a moment longer, then blurted out his question in a blunt manner anyway. "Aren't you just _adopted_ by Germania, then?"  
" _What?_ " Prussia exclaimed, somewhere between angry and astounded that someone could even think that. And worried that France might actually be right. "Absolutely not!" _Am I?_ Suddenly he wasn't sure. He had once been Baltic, in a previous life. He had still been a Baltic region by the time he'd been born. His people now were the descendants of German settlers. Still, he huffed. "I look exactly like him, don't I? Of course I'm his son! Have you ever even _met_ Germania?"  
"Yes."  
"Several times, actually."  
 _Why does everyone know my dad but me?_ Prussia sighed, staring at the two, annoyed with them and their stupid ages, which allowed them to have known Germania while Prussia still had no idea what his father had even been like. " _Well_? Do I look like him or not?"  
"Have _you_ ever met Germania?" France asked bluntly, confused at this question.  
But before Prussia could answer to this, Spain slapped his hand over France's mouth, muttering to him in Spanish. France grumbled an apology in response, muffled by the Spaniard's hand still covering his mouth. Spain didn't let go yet, though, as he turned to Prussia with a smile. "Well, you don't look like him _exactly,_ " he said carefully, still grinning sheepishly. "But I suppose I do see the resemblance, yes. Sorry, France must've had one too many sips of his wine."  
"How could you _not_ know that we're related to England, anyway?" France then suddenly piped up, voice slurred. Just that he was reacting this late told Spain and Prussia that he was the most wasted of them all right now, though Spain and Prussia were most definitely not sober anymore either.  
"I don't know!" the Prussian retorted, rolling his eyes. "How could you _not_ know that I'm the German reincarnation of the Baltic Prussia? I can start asking obvious things, too!"  
"You're a reincarnation?!"  
Prussia sighed, eyeing his beer. He was tempted to just drink until he passed out by now. Anything to not have to listen to his two drunk, idiot allies. Still, as the evening passed them by and turned into night, he couldn't deny that, once again, he was actually enjoying himself for a change.

* * *

It wasn't long until Prussia's joy disappeared again, though.  
At another strategy meeting between Prussia, France, Spain, Saxony and all their other allies, one particular piece of new overshadowed all the things that had happened which had been in their favour.  
"So you've captured every fortress in Silesia by now, little bro?" Saxony asked Prussia, shaking his head with a sigh. "I'm jealous, I have to admit. Care to sell the land?"  
"Sell it?" Prussia laughed, glad that he'd gotten his brother so annoyed now that Prussia had captured the land Saxony desired as well. Fritz smiled as Prussia laughed, which the kingdom saw from the corner of his eyes. The albino hadn't been this good-humoured in ages, and the king was happy that having allies had really had a positive effect on Prussia like this. "Forget it, Sax, I chose Silesia for a reason. It's mine now, you just deal with it." He smirked then, and with joy twinkling in his red eyes he added: "Of course, when this war is over, you can just fight me over it. _If_ , of course, you dare to do so, now that you've seen the strength of my army."  
Saxony chuckled also, but didn't respond anymore, which told Prussia -much to his delight- that fighting his little brother was something the Saxon rather avoided.  
Spain nudged Prussia now, smirking at him. "You're a strong little kid, I'll give you that," he said with a playful wink. 'Little kid' had now become the nickname for Prussia in the trio of allies, and Spain had adopted Prussia's nickname for France, 'Stubble'. France and Prussia had decided on the nickname 'Tomato' for Spain together, not only because this exotic fruit was one of the Spaniard's favourites, but also because his face resembled one when you got him angry.  
Still, Prussia hoped that he could soon change their minds about the nickname they called him by. He was no little kid, and though he could live with it now, he would rather be seen as more awesome than that.  
France nodded. "But let's not forget," he said, looking at Spain with one eye. "You and I are contributing nicely to the war as well; Prussia's only fighting in Silesia, after all."  
"Aw, he's just a kid," Spain countered jokingly. "Give 'im a break, France. Of course he leaves the real work the the adults. Who wouldn't?"  
Prussia laughed dryly and rolled his eyes. They just weren't ready to acknowledge his awesomeness, but they would soon enough. Then he looked at the humans who were there as well. "So? Any other news that we need to hear?"  
Augustus III, Saxony's leader, then cleared his throat and pulled out a report from one of his troops. "Good question, Prussia." He looked at each of the people there with him, then began telling them what had been reported to him. "It appears that Maria Theresia went and _begged_ the Hungarians for help, the weak woman," he started matter-of-factly. This piqued Prussia's interest, and the albino listened intently to what the human had to say. His heart dropped when he heard what came next. "It appears that, out of pity, they agreed to aid the Austrians in battle. We do not have exact numbers, but we can expect a Hungarian reinforcement to Austrian troops sooner rather than later."  
Saxony sighed at this news from his leader; he had of course known it already, but still wasn't happy to hear it again. "Pity," he mumbled. "The Hungarian army is formidable. No doubt they will give us trouble eventually."  
"Do you know where they're headed?" Fritz then asked the other king, and the older man shook his head.  
"Could be Silesia for all we know," he answered solemnly. "If so, I wish you luck with them. The Austrians are a piece of cake compared to Hungary's army. If they do head to Silesia and you face them in battle," he added with a certain light in his eyes as he stared at the younger man, "just promise not to pull another Mollwitz, Frederick."  
Fritz's cheeks reddened slightly, and he looked away uncomfortably. Fleeing the battlefield like he had at the Battle of Mollwitz early that year, his first-ever battle completely under his command, had been one of the most embarassing mistakes in his life so far. "I will not, whatever the circumstances," he answered through clenched jaws. "Trust me. I would rather die for my country than run from my duties ever again."  
France smiled at this, though it looked somewhat like a mischievous smirk. "Aw, don't you just have the most devoted king in Europe, Prussia?" He, Spain and Saxony all snickered softly. Of course Spain and France had noticed how close Prussia and Fritz were, and when Saxony had at one time told them just _how_ close king and kingdom had once been, they had made a habit of teasing Prussia about it. No doubt Spain would join in as well after this 'golden oppertunity'.  
But he didn't. Not this time.  
Because when Spain turned, with a wide and playful grin, to look at Prussia, his happiness immediately faded from his expression. "Prussia?" he asked tentatively, tilting his head a bit to try and see his young friend's face. "Are you all right? What's the matter?"  
But Prussia didn't react. He had his gaze fixed on the floor beneath him, his eyes hidden behind strands of white hair. He grew tense, his shoulders gradually raising because of the tension in them. His breathing was shallow and quick, and he was muttering under his breath so quickly that no one could follow him.  
The others looked at one another now, wondering what to do. Eventually it was Saxony who decided to try and talk to him now. "Prussia-?"  
He didn't get to say any more than that. Suddenly Prussia lashed out, kicking the table with such force that it made everyone jump in shock, and it knocked over a crystal pitcher, spilling water all over the wooden surface. " _No!_ " he burst out, swiping the pitcher from the table in a swift movement and flinging it at a wall, shattering it in into thousands of shimmering pieces of crystal. " _NO!_ "  
Everyone else was too shocked to move now, and they watched wide-eyed as the albino kingdom exploded in rage. Prussia's entire body was tense, so much so that his pale skin flushed red with anger. " _Why?!_ " he screamed at the top of his lungs, staring at Hungary's name on the map they were using for their strategy discussions. "Why must you _always_ side with that _prick?!_ " Some shimmering caught his eye, and he grabbed the closest larger piece of crystal, stabbing it into the table, piercing the heart of Austria's territories marked on their map. "Can't you see how _worthless_ he is? Can't you see he isn't deserving of your help, of _you?!_ " He pulled the crystal out again, cutting deep into his own palms as he did so, and repeatedly stabbed Hungary's representation on the map of Europe instead now, droplets of blood spattering across the table. " _Why_ , you traitor!? Why, _why, WHY?!_ " He stabbed the crystal, now painted red with his blood, into the map one more time, then stumbled backwards, gasping for breath after his outburst seemed to have used up all his oxygen. He watched his blood drip down the crystal and onto the map, seeping into the linen, dyeing all of Hungary on it a deep crimson. "So that's the value of friendship, then," he choked out, voice barely above a whisper now, as his sight blurred and he felt warm liquid gathering in his eyes. "So that's how much love is worth to you? You heartless bitch." Then, suddenly, he collapsed onto his knees, feeling dizzy and still having trouble breathing properly. "I hope he dies," he whispered, half to himself, half to Hungary. "I hope he _dies_. And if not... then you should die instead." He gritted his teeth, feeling tears trickle down his cheeks now. "You _vile, treacherous bitch._ I hope you die, and then Austria will finally know what pain I've suffered. If I can't take you from him and have you myself, then I'll take you from this world altogether! I'll... I'll..." He breathed heavily for a moment, and he felt as if he was completely blinded by tears. Still, he managed to gather enough air in his lungs for one more outburst: "I'LL _KILL_ YOU HUNGARY, MARK MY WORDS!"  
Then he sniveled, and within seconds he sat there, crying softly.  
The nations looked at each other, wondering what to do, then stared at Fritz, who looked just as startled and clueless as them. Saxony took a step closer to his little brother, but the Prussian king quickly stopped him, shaking his head. "Leave him be," he choked out in a whisper, but the man sounded strangely calm. "I'll deal with this." Slowly Fritz approached Prussia now, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. When Prussia didn't react to that, the human turned to all the other people in the room with them. "Please give us a minute alone," he asked them calmly. "We'll continue this some other time."  
He waited until they had all left, then pulled Prussia close in a tight hug. In silence he sat there like that with his kingdom, allowing Prussia to cry for now. Fritz had in fact been waiting for this, though he had imagined it a little differently. But he had been waiting for this moment nonetheless, the moment that Prussia finally tore down his own impenetrable walls, and would at least let his old friend in like he did now.  
This time, Fritz didn't even have to say anything for Prussia to start talking. "I don't want to fight her, Fritz," the kingdom cried softly, voice muffled by his friend's shoulder. "I can't... not her..."  
Fritz just held him, remaining strangely calm. "I know," he whispered back, as if the reason Prussia was in this state now didn't surprise him at all. "I was afraid something like this would happen."  
"S-she _always_ picks his side," Prussia complained, biting back sobs. " _Always!_ Why... why can't she just pick _my_ side for once? S-she and I have been friends nearly all my life." He shivered for a moment, then gritted his teeth. "I'm beginning to think she doesn't even _care_ how much I love her... She must _know_ it by now, she just doesn't _care_."  
Fritz remained silent for a moment, only holding Prussia close now, trying to soothe him like that. Then, when he spoke again softly, his words confused Prussia thoroughly. "Well done, Prussia."  
"W-what...?"  
"Well done," Fritz repeated, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "You're finally acknowledging your emotions, instead of trying to deny them, trying to avoid them." He looked at Prussia for a moment, wiping a tear from his friend's face with his thumb, then smiled. "Go on, Prussia. Say it again."  
Prussia couldn't breathe for a moment when the human said this, but he didn't break completely until he saw Fritz smile at him like that. He clenched his jaws again, gritting his teeth. In a swift movement he wrapped his arms around Fritz's neck and clung to him, allowing a few sobs to pass his lips. "Fuck, Fritz, I love that crazy woman... I really do!" He let out a shaky sigh, leaning against his friend but no longer holding him as tightly as he had. "And despite that, this is what I always get... She hates me, I know she does. I-I understand that attacking Austria will only work against me, but I... I can't help it."  
Fritz didn't respond anymore now. Instead, he and Prussia sat there in silence for a little while, and then the human began to carefully wrap Prussia's still bleeding hand, after which he told him to go take some time for himself to calm down again. Prussia only gratefully listened to him.

* * *

But in the end, Prussia barely got any time to himself. Because just minutes after he had found himself an empty room to sit and ponder in, Spain and France barged in.  
"Ha!" the Spaniard said happily as he saw the albino kingdom, who nearly had a heart attack at their sudden and loud entrance. "Found you!"  
"My, you made quite a ruckus back there," France added more softly, grinning, as he and Spain flopped down to sit on either side of Prussia.  
The younger kingdom uncomfortably shifted between them. "Wow, you two really have _no_ consideration at all, do you?" he grumbled, annoyed with them already. "Piss off, just leave me alone for now."  
France raised an eyebrow at this, though his eyes were still twinkling with joy. "After you broke my antique pitcher like that?" he asked indignantly. "What do you take me for, an idiot? No, Prussia, you'll have to pay me back."  
"And the best way to repay the damage," Spain added with a playful wink, pulling Prussia against him with one arm, "is to let us play matchmaker for you now."  
That was about the last thing Prussia had expected to hear, and surprised, he shoved out of spain's reach, only to practically end up on France's lap instead. Flustered, he tried to get away from both of them, but France held him down now while Spain leaned over him to block his way. "I've never seen a case of heartbreak as bad as yours," France laughed then, though he sounded very serious as he spoke. "And you should know, I'm Love incarnated; if there's anyone on this planet who can solve that problem for you, it's _moi_."  
Spain huffed. "If you're Love, France," he said, "then _I'm_ the incarnation of Passion, and you know it."  
"See?" France only said in response, looking down at the Prussian he was holding down, half on his lap. "You're lucky enough to have us, so let us help you!"  
"We'll get Hungary to come around, you'll see," Spain promised, grinning wide.  
Prussia, who had been squirming wildly to free himself, burst out laughing now. These two were such idiots! He really hated them with a passion, yet at the same time, he could not have better allies. It was their utter idiocy that managed to cheer him up, no matter what mood he was in, no matter the situation. He had almost forgotten the semi-hatred that had existed between him and Spain nearly a century ago, and he had even managed to forgive France for the witch hunt his people had performed on Prussia so long ago.  
"I hate you!" he choked out between his laughter. He was laughing so hard by now, it actually began to hurt. "I really, really hate you both!"  
"Good," France then quipped. "Because we hate you, too."  
"We're really bad friends, aren't we?" Spain agreed, laughing now too. Then he looked down at Prussia also, smiling wide. "But, Prussia, as we've said several times before now, you're our little kid ally." He patted the albino on the head then, his smile turning into a mischievous grin. "And we're your babysitters. That doesn't only mean that we make sure you don't do anything stupid -like, say, killing Austria- but also that we're here to make sure you're well taken care of and happy."  
"And if 'happy' in your case means we need to get Hungary to see your 'awesome' love for her," France added with a playful wink, "then the countries of love and passion are happy to oblige."  
Finally, Prussia managed to squirm his way out of their grasp, and he fell to the floor, scrambling away from them. But he was laughing too hard to get up now, and instead he gave up once he was halfway through the room, rolling over onto his back and just laughing. "You two!" he choked out, breathless. "You two are going to kill me, I swear!" He was trying very hard to stop himself now, but everytime he nearly got there, France or Spain would say something else again, and he'd end up curled up on the floor laughing again. "Oh God, I can't _breathe!_ " he complained at one point, nearly crying again, but with laughter this time. "Stop it, both of you!"  
France and Spain were both laughing now too, and the latter looked at his northern neighbour with a huge grin. "What should we do, France?" he asked, sounding almost worried. "At this rate, we really _will_ kill him!" France only shrugged.  
"If he dies, I'm sure we can get Hungary to kiss him, and he'll wake up again," he pondered eventually, chuckling a little as he did so. "Our Prussian friend is _snow white_ , after all, and Hungary has always been a _galant knight._ "  
"Fuck you!"  
France and Spain both just laughed at this feeble attempt of his to sound angry. "Ah, we know you love us, no hard feelings."  
Eventually Prussia could breathe again, and by then he'd laughed enough with his two allies that he had almost completely forgotten his moment of despair that afternoon.  
France and Spain were really the best, most horrible friends he'd ever had.

* * *

 **Please don't take Prussia too seriously in what he said about Austria and Hungary. Poor baby just got the betrayal of his life (well, the way he sees it anyway. But I think we've all established by now that his mental state isn't the most stable at the moment...)**

 **Lucky for him, there's always France and Spain now! Lucky for Fritz, too, at least the poor man isn't the only one who has to deal with Prussia's tantrums anymore now XD I was beginning to feel sorry for him.**

 **Well, I hope you liked this chapter, and thank you for reading!**


	37. Chapter 37

**Hiya everyone. back again!**

 **APHALLTHEWAY and Ascella Noelle, thanks for the follows and favourite! TheBlueAcid, Tius, TheOldKaiser, pinkdoughnuts and MissiriKoharehn, thanks for the reviews!  
About the snow white fairytale, no, that was a historical inconsistency right there, but I could not resist. But I wasn't far off -I read that the first version of the story appeared in 1812. And of course, as with many fairytales, the origins of the story are much older than that (but with many variations to it as well) so it is not _completely_ out of place (only mostly).**

 **Well, I hope you'll like this chapter, too!**

* * *

It was 17 May 1742. Prussia was in Bohemia together with Fritz and his army. They were a force of 28,000 men, but they were about to face troops greater in numbers than themselves. But Prussia refused to let that discourage his men.  
"These are _Austrians_ we're about to face," he reminded them as he and Fritz rode horses at the front of their troops, able to overlook the majority of their soldiers like that. "These are the people from whom we've taken Silesia in 7 weeks' time! The army that was crushed by our might! Now we are here to protect what we made ours, and to aid our allies in their battle for Prague! We have signed an alliance with the French and the Bavarians, and I intend to keep the promises I made them. For without our loyalty, our courage and our reliability, we would not be Prussians!"  
The men cheered at this, looking ready for battle once again. From somewhere at the front of the ranks of soldiers, Prussia caught the amused mutter of one of the men to another: "Well, if we're talking Prussian virtues now, I think _someone_ has missed the fact that 'restraint' and 'modesty' are also on the list!"  
Prussia could not suppress a chuckle of his own in spite of the slight insult, and he sought out the soldier who had spoken with his gaze. When he found him, he answered with a grin: "Well, I'm happy to see someone else here has remembered 'sincerity'. Still, I advise you to kindly shut up now. I _am_ modest: I'm just awesome, not _divine_. How much more modest can a person get?"  
Much to his joy, some other soldiers laughed softly now, too. It was good to see that they could enjoy themselves even right before a battle, even though many of them must know that this could well be their last day on Earth. Then he turned around and looked the other way, where he knew the Austrian troops were waiting. It was still early in the morning, but Prussia knew the battle was due to start any moment now. He himself was for once not part of the infantry, but instead of the newly-trained cavalry. It was the one part of the army that Frederick William I had neglected to train, and at the start of Prussia's campaign to capture Silesia, that had proved to be a problem. During a summer-long truce with Austria the year before, Fritz had made the cavalry go through some rigorous training, and Prussia had more faith in their strength than any other country's cavalry now. Still, fighting on horseback had been a while ago for him, and he wondered how this was going to go. It was also the first battle in which he would be fighting seperately from Fritz.  
Then, mere minutes later, King Frederick II gave the order to attack.

First the Prussian troops used their cannons, after which the cavalry, led by Prussia and the elderly Field Marshal Buddenbrock advanced on Austrian troops. The moment they were within range, Prussia let go of the reins on his horse, clinging to the animal with his legs only. He grabbed the rifle he had tied to his back, aiming for the Austrian cavalry soldiers. His first shot missed, but he quickly reloaded and shot again, this time hitting a man right in the chest. Then, as his horse gallopped closer to the Austrian cavalry line, he tied his rifle to his back again, nearly losing his balance when his horse had to make an awkward jump, and he fell forward onto the animals neck. Clutching the reins again now to regain his balance, he gritted his teeth and looked up at his enemies again. By now, there was a full-out clash between Prussians and Austrians, and Prussia quickly recovered himself and grabbed the sword that hung heavily at his right hip. Clinging to the reins with his right hand, the kingdom dealt swift and effective blows with his left, and soon he began to notice that the Austrian cavalry was already beginning to fall back.  
"Well done, men!" he called out to his soldiers, coughing briefly as he inhaled the dust that was being kicked up by the horses. The ground beneath their hooves was dry and sandy, and Prussia had trouble seeing further than a couple of metres ahead of him. But the dust would not stand between him and his victory. "We'll drive them right back all the way to Vienna at this rate!"  
But soon the Austrian army proved him wrong: out of the dust came a second line of Austrain cavalry, taking Prussia at least by surprise. Their attack had been going so well, he hadn't expected such a formidable-looking resistance now. But once again, he refused to be taken aback by his enemies. Though his troops were now being driven back, he managed countless of expertly executed blows with his sword, and eventually even went as far as to let go of the reins on his horse again and fight with a sword in his left hand, and stabbing with the bayonet of his rifle in his right. But the dust that hung heavily in the air choked him, seemingly clogging up his lungs, and he felt dizzy with lack of oxygen after some time, and also, he realised, with loss of people. He tried to see through the dust and get a look at the town of Chotusitz, where Fritz was fighting with the infantry, but it hung in the air too thick to get a look at anything but horses and men, blood and steel.  
Suddenly he felt a piercing, cold pain shoot through his right leg, and he yowled in pain while at the same time his horse let out a frantic, agonised whinny. Whipping his head around quickly, he saw a soldier beside him, with his sword stuck through Prussia's leg and in his horse's flank. Prussia cringed as the sword was pulled out of him again, but still managed to nearly chop the man's head off in retaliation, just before his horse collapsed beneath him. Prussia hit the ground with a loud thud, cringing for a moment as it sent even more pain through his torn-up leg. Then he scrambled up, and fell back down again almost immediately. Gritting his teeth, he watched blood pour out of the deep, mangled cut in his right thigh and he knew he couldn't stand on that anymore now if he wanted it to heal quickly. Then he heard the frantic, pained cries of his wounded horse beside him, and he heaved himself over to the animal's side, sitting down on his shoulder and grabbing the dying animal's head in both hands. With a single, powerful thrust, he snapped his neck, and slid off him again. "Sorry for that, buddy," he couged, laying down and keeping still. "But it's better than watching you bleed to death." Then he remained still like that, listening to the battlecries and thundering hooves around him with tightly shut eyes, trying not to choke on the dust. The best chance he and his army had now, was if he played dead for now until his leg had patched itself up to the point that he could stand on it again, and then he would join the battle once more, with or without horse.

Some time later, Prussia and some of his troops had managed to get themselves out of this hopeless battle, trying to get to the infantry in the nearby town instead to support them. The Prussian cavalry had suffered a great loss and had been driven back far by the Austrians, but the worst was that Prussia saw that the ground around them was so broken up, that there was no way he could lead his army across it to help out in Chotusitz. Some blood still dripped from the nearly-closed wound in his leg, and jolts of pain still shot through the limb every now and then. His lungs were ablaze with the amount of dust he had inhaled, but he refused to be beaten.  
Looking in the direction of the town now, Prussia, to his shock, saw smoke rising up from it. His heartbeat picked up in sheer panic, and he felt chilled to the bone with dread. "Fritz is there," he choked out. "Shit! Fritz is there!"  
Buddenbrock now looked at the town, too. "We cannot get there," he said solemnly. "Prussia, we have no choice but to continue fighting here. The infantry will have to help themselves out, we can't do it for them."  
But Prussia gritted his teeth and shook his head. "A whole cavalry might not make it across ground like that," he grumbled angrily, "but _one_ soldier can!" He was already turning his new horse, an animal that had fled but been caught again before it could get away, in the direction of the burning town.  
The old human narrowed his eyes. "Flames cannot hurt you, can they, Prussia?" he inquired softly.  
 _Except that I still have scars left by certain flames,_ the kingdom thought ruefully. "No. No, they can't kill me, nothing can but other immortals."  
"Then go, get as many of our soldiers out of there as you can," Buddenbrock ordered him. "Now! The rest of you, prepare for another attack!"  
Prussia did not need to hear any more than that -he rode away quickly, forcing his horse to ride with the speed of the wind.

As he reached the town, he saw the two armies still fighting amidst the fires. He halted his horse and reloaded his rifle for the gazillionth time that day, and realised he was nearly out of bullets. The few shots he could still fire had to count.  
Soon he noticed, to his sheer relief, that his infantry was faring better than he had expected they would -which immediately told him the cavalry still wasn't, they had to be the source of the aches in his body by now. Seeing this filled Prussia with more hope, and he managed to hit enemy soldiers with all but one of his last bullets. Then he quickly rode his horse through the burning town, ignoring the pain in his leg and lungs as he searched for any wounded soldiers that he could already help to get away from the fires. He had half a mind to get off his horse and join the infantry now, but he knew his injured leg still wasn't nearly recovered enough to hold him that long.  
He had never really busied himself with helping the wounded in the midst of battle; he'd always been too busy fighting, and would only see the damage of war after the fighting had ceased. It came as a shock to him how many lives could be saved if they received medical attention sooner. _This is ridiculous!_ he thought as he half carried an injured soldier onto his horse. _All the field medics in the world could not be enough to help everyone as soon as they should!_ Occupied with searching for any wounded soldiers, bringing them out of the burning town and heading back again, he hardly noticed when, around noon, the Austrians retreated. But this time, Prussia could not be triumphant over his victory. _We may have won the battle,_ he thought vaguely as he headed back to camp. _But who really lost today?_

* * *

In the end, this battle proved to be the decisive one in the war for Silesia, which ended in a Prussian victory. A treaty between Austria and Prussia was finalised in Berlin in the summer of 1742, in which Prussia was granted all but a few of the Silesian territories he'd captured during his campaign. He would rather have gotten all, of course, but he contented himself with this. For now, anyway.  
Between him and Austria, the day had been completely uneventful; they hadn't talked more than necessary and avoided each other after the negotiations were done. Austria just disappeared afterward, and Prussia didn't bother to ask where his cousin had gone off to. Probably back home to lick his wounds, the kingdom thought gleefully, still happy over his victory. He was almost just as happy over the fact that he now had time to go to university like he had wanted for so long. But before he did that, he decided to pay someone a visit, something he hadn't done in much too long due to the war.  
The cemetery wasn't empty today, something he did prefer, but it had been so long now that he couldn't care less. He just couldn't wait anymore.  
It was clear that no one had bothered to tend to Brandenburg's grave during the time he'd been away; there were weeds covering the ground and dark green ivy climbing up the stone. With a sigh, he knelt down and began picking the plants away one by one, talking as he did so. "Guess what, Brand?" he said softly, his lips twisted into a smile. "We won the war. It was nearly too easy, wasn't it? Austria didn't stand a chance." The Prussian chuckled a bit, flicking a spider off the gravestone; Brandenburg had never exactly been fond of spiders. "How do you like Spain and France so far? I think they're quite all right, myself. Not as awesome as I am, of course, nor as awesome as you. But they're funny, nice to hang out with... I like having them as my allies." Carefully he plucked a few weeds from the sandy ground now, and threw them aside once he got all of them out. Then he went on and tidied up the ground a little, all the while still talking. "Really, Brand, does no one ever bother to look after you but me? I was going to lock myself up in the university's library for the coming weeks, but if this is how things with you go when I'm not around, I think I'll have to come out once in a while after all. No problem, I'll have plenty of time for this now that I'm not fighting anymore."  
He sat down once he was done, staring at the gravestone in silence. Then, after a little while, he sighd sadly. "Just a few days now, huh? Then it'll be 38 years ago..." he mumbled, shaking his head. "I can hardly believe that you've been gone for so long... You promised you would be here, even after 'death did us part', remember? Are you?" There was a lump in his throat now, but he swallowed it quickly and composed himself again. "I just want to see you again, Brand. I... I really miss you."  
"This is almost laughable," suddenly came a familiar voice, sending a cold shiver down Prussia's spine, and the albino kingdom whipped around to face the person who had walked up behind him without him noticing. Austria stared down at him with an emotionless gaze, and blinked once before going on: "How you can be two such different people, Prussia, is beyond me. Just weeks ago you were slaying people just to gain some land, and now, here you are, and just _look at you_."  
Prussia stiffened and gritted his teeth. How dare the bastard just waltz in here and disturb him, now of all times? Couldn't he just pay Brand a visit without being criticized?  
But Austria didn't leave any time for Prussia to respond. "I really do not understand you, Prussia... not at all. Are you really just one person?" The contempt that had flashed in his eyes for a moment, was quickly replaced with deep confusion, and he lowered his voice just a little. "You can be such a brute, you revel in other people's pain and misery and you start fights for fun, it sometimes seems. And then the next moment you're... gentle, calm, loving almost." For a moment, he looked like he wanted to stop there, but he added one more sentence to it: "One moment you're nothing short of a monster, and the next you're so... _human._ "  
"Oh, really?" Prussia laughed sarcastically, getting to his feet now. "You mean, you think I might actually have _feelings?_ Now where did you get that _ridiculous_ notion? Surely I am the world's greatest evil -you must be mistaken, Austria, that must be it." He shook his head and chuckled, but angrily so. "Maybe you need other glasses, cousin o'mine. If you honestly thought you could see something even remotely human about me just now, then you must be blind. Because, obviously, I do not possess a heart." His mocking smile faded from his face, making place for a look of rage, mingled with the slightest bit of despair he let through for once. "I would almost agree with you on that one; my heart has been cut to pieces so many times, it does sometimes surprise even me that it's still there in the first place."  
After this, the two cousins stared at each other in silence for a little while, and Prussia could just about slap himself. _Why_ had he said something like that in front of _Austria_ , of all people? But eventually, Austria just sighed. "Prussia, I didn't mean-"  
" _Yes_ , you did," Prussia interrupted him, gritting his teeth in sheer anger. "Don't give me that bullshit. What are you even here for? Did you follow me here?" He took a step closer to Austria, who nearly jumped at this and quickly stepped back. "Get out!"  
The Austrian shook his head. "No, I... I didn't come here for you," he replied softly, holding up a single flower, a beautiful lily with large, pure white petals. He didn't say any more than that, but Prussia understood. Part of him wanted to kick his enemy off this cemetery, kick him all the way back to Vienna if need be, but another part of him just could not stop him from simply paying his respects to Brandenburg. So, after long hesitation, he stepped aside and let Austria through, though he kept a close eye on him now. But Austria did nothing but kneel down, carefully place the flower on Brand's grave, mumble a few words to her and get up again. The two still didn't say a word as they stared at each other one last moment, then Austria turned around and walked away without looking back. Prussia stared at him until he was off the cemetery, then turned back to the grave.  
It did look better with a flower on it...

* * *

A year passed, and Prussia had time to recover from the losses he'd suffered in the years of war. Austria, still at war with France, Spain, Bavaria, Saxony and others, could not, much to the Prussian's delight.  
The kingdom spent most of that year studying, exactly as he had wanted to. He had decided to read as much as he could on how he could best help his people in the next war, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that wars would never be out of this world. Humans would fight for as long as they existed, and it was his duty, not just to fight by their sides, but to help them too.  
In the early months of 1743 he also had a chance to practise what he had read up on all those months, when he decided to pay France and Spain a visit.

"Ow!" Spain complained, nearly jumping as the needle slid into his skin once more.  
Prussia rolled his eyes. "Sit still, would you? It wouldn't hurt nearly as much if only you stopped squirming."  
But the Spaniard was glaring at him through the corners of his eyes now, and huffed. "Oh, I'm sorry that I have quite the deep cut in my shoulder, and you're continuously sticking a needle into it!" The man cringed when Prussia didn't pay any mind to his protest, and just continued doing his job for now.  
Prussia nearly wanted to slap him for it. "Don't be such a baby," he grumbled, though he continued being as gentle as he could as he stitched the older man's wound. "You're the one who didn't want even a single sip of whiskey; of course it hurts more if you don't use any anaesthetic."  
"We don't have enough of the stuff, and the humans need it more than I do," Spain only protested, sighing. "Though, to be fair... a wound inflicted by England..."  
"That is indeed exactly the same as a wound inflicted on a human body," Prussia just agreed, grinning when France already walked up with a bottle of the alcoholic drink. "So, you willing to drink something, now? This is only the first of several stitches I need to do, you know. He beat you up good, that Englishman."  
Spain shook his head, but when Prussia stuck the needle into his skin with a little bit more force than before -on purpose, naturally- he gladly grabbed the whiskey and took a swig of it. "Go on, then," he grumbled to Prussia, occassionally sipping his whiskey again before telling France to just bring it back to the infirmary, where it was needed more than it was here.  
When France came back, the Prussian was already done stitching up the largest cut, and was nearly done with one of the four smaller ones, too. The blond nation inspected his younger friend's handiwork for a moment, then made an impressed noise. "Looks pretty neat, actually," he commented just as Prussia finished up the second stitch. "You've done this before, haven't you?"  
"Actually," Prussia admitted, cleaning his needle in a bowl of cold water before going on to the next cut. "No, this would be the first time. I have read about it a lot, though, and also watched it two or three times. But this is the first time I've done any stitches myself..." He patted Spain on his good shoulder when the nation stiffened when he heard this, telling him to relax again.  
"You're leaving my shoulder in one piece, aren't you?" Spain asked, concerned now, craning his neck to see what Prussia was doing. Again, he got pushed back into a normal position by the albino, who simply answered, annoyed now, that he was in fact making sure he would be in one piece again by the time he was done.  
"Don't worry, _mon ami_ ," France reassured his neighbouring country, giving him a pat on his good shoulder. "It seems our little friend has a hidden talent for these things. He's doing it as well as any nurse would -maybe not as good as an actual doctor _yet_ , but at this rate, he will certainly reach that point, too."  
"I know," Prussia said with a smirk. "Praise me as much as you want; my stitching skills are nearly as awesome as I am!" He was fairly surprised about it himself, actually, but most of all he was proud of his handiwork on Spain's skin and overjoyed. At this rate, whenever he was at war with another country, he could take up the role of a soldier as well as that of a field medic! And the more lives he could save, the more he would keep up his own strength as well, which in turn meant he could continue doing both these jobs even longer.  
When he was done, he quickly brought his needle and thread back to the infirmary, then lent a hand there, too. It didn't surprise him that Spain hadn't wanted to be treated in the infirmary; the injured, dying men there were an overwhelming sight, and Prussia felt sick as he worked. But it also made him work harder.  
After some time, when there wasn't much to do anymore, he went back to France and Spain, explaining to them what he'd been doing when they asked. France laughed at this. "Prussia, _mon ami_ , you're wasting your skills as a soldier! I think, in your next war, you should just keep yourself busy with healing rather than hurting."  
But Prussia shook his head, feeling tired after all the work he'd done. It would probably be some time before he would be used to being among so many badly injured people for so long. "I know now that I could be as awesome a doctor as I am anything else," he boasted with a wide grin. "But, France, the thing I'm most awesome at, is being a soldier. That's what I've been doing all my life, and I will probably continue to do so for the rest of it, too." France then got up, and Prussia immediately noticed something off about the way he walked. "Sit down!" he ordered him immediately, getting to his feet again. "France, I mean it. Sit down _right now_ -you're limping, you idiot."  
France stared at him wide-eyed, startled. "I-it's just a sprained ankle," he stammered. "It's nothing bad, really."  
Prussia sighed. "Sit down first, let me take a quick look, and _then_ we'll decide if it's 'nothing bad', you hear me?" He walked over to France and pushed him down, after which France decided to give up his protests and gingerly took off his left boot. Prussia scowled when he saw red, swollen skin, and he didn't even need to touch it to know it was probably warm as well. "It's because you haven't given it any rest that it hasn't healed yet," he told France matter-of-factly. "You do know that, don't you?"  
France huffed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, sure I know that. But what choice do I have? There's a lot of work to do around here." He then tried to put on his boot again, but now that it had gotten the space to swell, he couldn't fit his ankle back in without it hurting really bad. He sighed and threw it aside. "You did this on purpose," he accused Prussia, who sat staring at him with a wide and mischievous grin.  
Prussia then just shrugged. "Well, it needed that space. Trust me, it will probably heal a lot quicker like this, also since I don't see you walking around this fortress barefooted; you can thank me in the morning." He then broke off in a yawn, and he stretched his back where he sat.  
At this, Spain and France exchanged an amused glance. "Well," Spain began slowly, getting to his feet, at which Prussia half panicked and told him to be careful; he didn't want to bust the stitches. Spain ignored him. "Whatever. _You_ , Prussia, need to be checked, too." Prussia stared at him, confused, but Spain already turned to France now, smirking. "Well, France? What's the diagnosis?"  
Playing along, France got to his feet, too, putting less pressure on his sprained ankle so as to not anger the new doctor in their little trio. "Hm, well..." he mused, tapping his chin as if he was thinking really hard just then. "Tired gaze, yawning, and he's not even laughing at this ridiculous play we're putting up. I say they're all clear symptoms of exhaustion."  
Spain nodded very seriously. "You're right, I think so, too. What treatment do we give him? I think a good night's sleep might be effective."  
France nodded now, too. "Yes, yes, brilliant idea! We need to get him to bed right away." Then, before Prussia could protest, the two were carrying him -Spain only using his good arm, naturally- and tossed him onto a bed, where he landed with a loud, dull thud. France then held him down as Spain pulled a sheet over him.  
Prussia stopped squirming, but still glared at them both. They only laughed, grinning at him with twinkling eyes as they said simultaneously: "You can thank us in the morning!" Then the two nations walked off, and Prussia called after them, agitated.  
"That is _not_ funny, you two!" he told them through gritted teeth. "I am _not_ a little kid, dammit!"  
The only response he got was laughter from the both of them, fading as they walked down the hallway, until he couldn't hear them anymore. And then the Prussian just smiled. He had managed to do a lot of useful things today, and as always, any interaction with his two friends was good interaction. He was pleased after today, very much so. And, he had to admit, France and Spain had been right, he really was quite tired. "They could've gone over it differently, though..." he mumbled to himself, rolling over onto his side and closing his eyes.  
Then he realised France _was_ walking around the fortress barefooted right now. On a badly sprained ankle.  
"Damn bastard."

* * *

Prussia was reading a book as he walked through the halls of the palace near Berlin, where he still sometimes spent time instead of being in Konigs-Wusterhausen or with Fritz. Every few seconds he would glance up from the pages just to check his direction and to make sure he wasn't going to walk into something or someone, then continued reading. It was a book written by Voltaire, and though he really didn't like Fritz's dear friend so much, he did appreciate the French philosopher's writing. He simply hid the books when Fritz or Voltaire himself were anywere near him, so that they wouldn't know he secretly loved them. And, whenever Voltaire was around, he also pretended his French wasn't quite what it used to be, just so that he wouldn't have to hold a conversation with him.  
But his books were awesome.  
Suddenly he heard a piano when he turned into another corridor, and he looked up, confused. The only piano here was in the library. Since it had belonged to Brand, he had specifically forbidden everyone to play so much as a note on it.  
 _Did Austria break in?_ he thought angrily, closing his book and moving toward the library with quick paces. _Is that four-eyed bastard back in Berlin, in my home, playing BRAND's piano?!_ But then, just when he reached the door and wanted to open it, he halted. Whoever it was had just missed a note.  
Austria _never_ missed a note.  
No human who worked or lived here was stupid enough to disobey Prussia when it came to Brandenburg's belongings. Even her old vase was still there, without a single scratch on its porcelain surface. So who would be stupid enough to break in and break his rules? Tensing his muscles, ready for a fight if necessary, he opened the door.  
And that stopped his heart and robbed him of his breath.  
Sitting there, playing the piano with slender, quick fingers but without the expertise Prussia was used to seeing from Austria, was Brandenburg herself, blue eyes twinkling as she played her music. He stood staring for God knows how long, until the piece was finished and Brandenburg looked up at him, smiling warmly.  
"Well, silly?" she said with a soft, good humoured giggle. "Are you going to just stand there? Sit down, enjoy the sound. I see you already have a book ready," she added, nodding to the book he was holding, which then slipped from his grip and dropped to the floor. Brand just stared at it for a moment, then laughed again. "Or not."  
Then, in a heartbeat, Prussia could move again, and he made a dash for her. But just before he could jump toward her and hold her in the death-grip hug he wanted to hold her in, he stopped himself. Something didn't feel right. Something told him, _screamed_ at him, that he shouldn't touch her. That he _couldn't_ touch her.  
Brandenburg noticed these thoughts, and she sighed, the twinkle in her eyes fading just the slightest. "You said you missed me," she whispered, a hint of sadness in her voice. "That you wanted to see me. I'm sorry that you've had to wonder for 39 years if I had kept my promise..." The margraviate smiled again now, all the sadness fading from both her eyes and her voice, as she added: "But I have. Every hour of every day and every night.  
Overjoyed as he still was to see her, these words shot through him like lightning, and some of his joy evaporated in the heat of it. "I'm dreaming," he concluded softly, "aren't I?"  
Brandenburg nodded silently.  
"But if this is a dream," Prussia then went on to ask, "why can't I touch you? Because I don't know why, but I just know that I really, _really_ shouldn't. Why is that?" He sat down beside her now, after she shoved aside to make space for him next to her on the little piano seat.  
She sighed. "Those are the rules. You and I don't exist in the same world, Prussia. It's rare for those worlds to blur enough that one can visit the other. They won't ever get mixed, though. You're alive, and I'm not, and those who are dead aren't allowed to mingle with the living. It is rare for us to be allowed to, ehm... 'visit', so to say."  
"Allowed?" Prussia then inquired, confused. "By whom?" Then a split second later, he realised, and shook his head. "No, never mind. You mean God, don't you?"  
Brandenburg chuckled and shook her head. "You're wrong. And you're right. Everyone has a different name for 'it', so I can't tell you if you're right or not. Let's just assume both are true." Then she looked at the book Prussia had dropped earlier, and grinned. "But you've been reading too many of those books, Prussia. I'm not here to discuss philosphy with you -I'm here for whatever you want right now."  
He smiled now, too, then snickered. "And what if philosophy is what I want?" he quipped, then shook his head. He thought for a moment, but all that he could think of right now was that he just wanted to _be_ with her. This was enough for him. As if she could read his thoughts, Brandenburg nodded and silently began playing the piano again, and Prussia just listened, looking at her face and the movement of her hands as she did so. How he had missed this sight. It _was_ their favourite way to spend their free time in the afternoons; her playing the piano and him reading a book. But if he continued reading now, he wouldn't be focussed on her enough, so he didn't.  
But eventually questions tumbled from his lips, anyway. "I know that she was reborn," he stammered. "But... but is Bavaria there, too?" Brandenburg nodded once again, but remained silent. Prussia's heart skipped a beat. So there was an incarnation of her around who remembered being killed by Prussia... he could only hope that different incarnations really couldn't share memories. He hadn't for sure, but still. "Does she... does she know how sorry I am?"  
"She does," Brand answered, looking at him sadly. "Everyone does. It took her a while to forgive you, but she understands why you did it. She has always doubted that you even loved me, you know, so to know that you went this far out of love and grief, she... she currently has mixed feelings about it. But she's not angry." Then she smiled, though still a little sadly so. "And neither am I." Then the sadness was replaced by warmth once again, and also mischief. With a smirk, she added: "Don't worry, I'm not angry about Fritz, either!"  
Prussia could only chuckle. "Oh, good! Because _that_ really had me worried!" Then he shook his head again, falling silent and instead listening to Brandenburg as she finished playing yet another piece.  
"We're all watching, you know," she said eventually, rather out of the blue, and Prussia stared at her, somewhat startled by that. But Brandenburg just went on. "Previous incarnations of those who are alive, countries who no longer exist... I know from what you've told me once or twice that you think Germania never cared about you, but he does. He has actually taken a very special interest in you; says you will be able to achieve great things."  
 _That's what Holy Rome once told me, too,_ Prussia recalled with a shock. _Maybe it's true, then..._  
"The previous Prussia, well... Let's just say she's happy that her name is at least prominently on the map, but she would've prefered staying Baltic. But she's keeping an eye on you, too." She then looked at him again, her gaze overflowing with warmth. "What I'm saying is, I know you often feel like you're all alone, like no one cares about you. But _we_ care, all of us, and we make sure you're never alone, even if you do not always notice it."  
Prussia could only smile at this, even though he was getting slightly dizzy now. "Thank you." And then the dizziness grew worse, and the world around him faded into black.

"What do you think, dr France? Has our treatment helped?"  
"Only one way to find out -Prussia! C'mon, _petit garcon,_ time to wake up!"  
Prussia huffed angrily and shifted, turning his back to the two voices. When they told him to wake up yet again, he just grumbled. "No. No, don'wanna." That turned out to be a mistake, because then, France and Spain decided to take more drastic measures to get him out of bed -namely, _pulling_ him out of bed and onto the floor. There, Prussia just groaned for a second, then opened his eyes, staring right into the grinning faces of France and Spain. "I really still hate you both," he muttered darkly, sitting up. "Just in the middle of this awesome dream, too..."  
"Ah, so you had a good night?" Spain concluded happilly, grinning wider.  
Prussia nodded, still too much asleep to be able to think about keeping up appearances and having a reputation to think about. "The best. I was just having this awesome dream -I saw Brand again, and we talked a bit and..." Then he realised what he was saying, and he lied quickly: "And of course, I kicked Austria's ass _again_ in that dream, I was absolutely awesome. That's nothing new, I know, but it was still awesome."  
France and Spain just looked at each other with wide smirks. "Sure it was," France then mumbled, patting Prussia on the head. "Sorry for waking you in the middle of it. But we had to check if our 'treatment' yesterday evening was effective-"  
"Which, obviously, it was," Spain added quickly. "You look wide-awake again! Which is good, because we, eh... kinda need your help."  
"My help?" the Prussian then asked softly, getting to his feet and sitting down again on the edge of his bed. "What do you need my awesomeness for _now_?"  
"Our dear friend Tomato here busted a stitch this morning."  
Prussia only laughed in response.

* * *

 **I needed to write that dream. I _needed_ to.  
**

 **Also, I really do see Prussia as the type of person to be a little overprotective of those he cares about when they're injured or something similar, but as we all know by now, he doesn't care if he's hurt himself. He just keeps going 'til he drops dead (or close to it, anyway). So naturally he would tell France to sit down when he has only sprained an ankle, and then he gets his leg impaled on a sword and he's back on a horse within minutes.  
Real smart.**

 **Ah well. Thanks for reading once again, and I hope y'all liked it!**


	38. Chapter 38

**All righty, first off as always: GraceDrawTheCat, fanais, catsrulegirl, pinkdoughnuts, Abc and TheBlueAcid, thanks for the follows, favourites and reviews!**

 **Be prepared for a not-so lighthearted chapter. Like, I just realised that there is _no_ lightheartedness in this chapter at all. None.**

 **Great to realise that when you've already finished the chapter. Ah well, you've all come this far in the story, it's not like it hasn't been this way before.**

* * *

 _26 May 1745_

 _I swear, soon, I will be able to crush Austria completely, and I'll take Saxony -that damn traitor- down with him. Why can't they just accept that I have won Silesia in a fair fight? Why would they try to get it back again like this? And I still do not understand how Saxony was my ally just years ago, and now, in this second war for Silesia, he's my enemy._  
 _Hungary, too, has been threatening me, saying that if I do not give back 'Austria's Silesia', she will make me pay for it._  
 _Let her try._

 _No one can beat the mighty Kingdom of Prussia! If they don't see that yet, then they're all blind. All of them._

 _I will win again. I must._

Prussia was right; just days later, on 4 June 1745, he faced Austria and Saxony in battle. He didn't know if Saxony was there, too, but he had glimpsed Austria more than once, and the moment he could, he broke away from the infantry and went in search of his cousin. He wouldn't kill Austria, that was a plan he'd left behind him now a while ago. He had killed an immortal once and he would never do it again. But _crushing_ someone could have different meanings. And he had plans.  
He slashed his way through the ranks of soldiers without any difficulty, avoiding any cuts deeper than an inch, which healed before they could even begin to be considered troublesome. The bullets weren't as easy to dodge, but more scarce. He was ignoring orders and ignoring the plans, but the entire battlefield here near Striegau and Hohenfriedberg was complete chaos. No one would pay any attention to a single soldier ignoring orders. And he knew, he just _knew_ , that if he could deal a decisive blow to Austria himself, the battle would easily be won, and so would the entire war. He didn't _want_ to fight, really, it surprised himself more than anyone else. He had just won the Silesian War, he was recovering from the many battles, he was spending his days with either Fritz or books or going on visits to his old allies on the battlefield like he had in 1743, and he was happy like that. So why did Austria have to end his little period of happiness, the first long one he'd had in decades, by trying to take back Silesia? _Well, you're not going to get it back,_ he wanted to tell his cousin, who was probably desperate due to this war. _It's mine now, I earned it!_  
And that was the only reason he wanted to take down Austria himself now, to secure the land he'd earned fair and square in war, to end this as quickly as possible and go back to what he loved doing these days. He had felt more like himself than he had in many years, and he wanted it _back_ , no matter what it took.  
He went up a hill, breaking away from the ranks of soldiers, both his own and his enemies', and tried to overlook the battlefield from there, searching for Austria. It took him a little while, but eventually he spotted him, riding a horse to the back of his army. Prussia knew that his sissy cousin wasn't a coward, as much as he might look like one at times, so he could only imagine him leaving the battle to be so that he could discuss tactics with the other commanders. _But how to get there?_ He stood still for a moment, thinking. When an idea popped into his mind, he was disgusted by it at first, but he knew it was his best chance. Quickly he took off his dark blue military coat and ran down the hill again, searching for the nearest dead Austrian. When he found one with about the same size as him, he took his white coat from him and put that on, then looking around to find something to cover up his head with. If he could hide his white hair, that would be enough -no one looked at another's eyes long enough to notice his were red. That was the only thing about his albinism now that still annoyed him; he stood out too much. He already knew that he would never be able to do any infiltration work, but he could at least give it a damn good try now.

Once he was dressed as an Austrian soldier, he faced a lot less difficulty moving to the back of their troops, and he could only hope Austria was still where he had spotted him. Once he broke free from the mass of battling humans, he had the luck that there were soldiers deserting, so he didn't stand out much among them. He went in a straight line to where he had seen Austria go to, forcing his tired legs to keep on running. He could not give up on this now. And if Austria wasn't there, then at least he knew he had been awesome enough to try.  
Eventually he began to pick up voices, faint and in the distance at first, but gradually growing louder as he got closer. And Austria's voice was among them. At this, the Prussian grinned, and as he approached the group of men, he drew his sword. It was the sound of sliding metal that alarmed them all, but by the time they looked at Prussia, shocked to see him there, the kingdom already had his sword pointed at his cousin's neck.  
"Prussia!" the Austrian gasped, taking a startled step back. "What is-? What do you think you're doing?"  
Prussia just shrugged. "Winning the war, is it that hard to imagine?" He then glanced around with glinting red eyes, concluding that his brother wasn't there. "Now where's Saxony, huh? He not here to help support you and his army?" Austria didn't answer, but a knowing look appeared in the Archduchy's eyes, and he grinned just the slightest, infuriating Prussia. "Well?" the kingdom demanded angrily. "If it's so funny, why not let me join in the fun, huh? Where is Saxony?!"  
This time it was Austria who shrugged. "Maybe he's out fighting Spain or France, I don't know. We do keep track, but I have no idea what exactly the Enlish army is doing right now."  
Prussia couldn't breathe for a moment after this, his mind reeling with confusion. "The.. the English army?" he echoed, then he shook his head angrily. "That makes no sense, you moron! Has the war been getting to your head? When Fritz told me our enemies were sure to make some stupid mistakes, I hadn't thought that applied to you as well. You're such an idiot, Austria, honestly."  
"I don't know exactly what you're saying," another voice then said behind him, in bad, accented French, and Prussia felt a sword slide against his throat. "But I'm right to conclude you don't have a clue what's going on, right?" Then an arm grabbed him from behind, and he was pulled back, bumping into someone and being held tightly against that person's body, keeping him from moving. He wanted to struggle, but the sword was still pressed against his throat, and he had the nagging feeling he knew this voice and the accent in which it spoke French. Craning his neck to look over his shoulder, he saw England, who was grinning at him with emerald eyes twinkling with joy. "Boo," he said flatly when he saw Prussia's stunned, confused stare. "Didn't expect to see me, did you now?"  
Prussia, unable to breathe in pure confusion once again, stared at England for a moment longer then looked back at Austria again. "What the hell is this joke? What is _England_ doing here?"  
Austria chuckled, clearly happy to see his plans -whatever they had been- had managed to confuse Prussia so much. "We figured that, if we sent countries out into battle with their own soldiers, then a loss against your army would cripple them for the duration of said battle. You must know how difficult it is to keep fighting after you've lost so many people." He looked at England then, only brielfy nodding to him before looking back at Prussia. "But since the English army isn't fighting at the moment, _England_ is a strong, nearly unbeatable asset to my troops here, and as is Saxony to England's."  
When the explanation was finished, Prussia was silent for a moment longer. Then, out of the blue, he burst out in laughter. "Country-swap?" he choked out between his laughter. "Seriously now, you think _that's_ going to beat me?" He silenced himself again and stared Prussia in the eyes with a wide smirk etched on his face. "Come now, Austria, do you really think you can afford underestimating me like that? You've seen what I'm capable of. And besides, I just told you that I came here with the intention to win." His smirk grew wider yet, and a dark, dangerous light appeared in his eyes as he added: "And you know what? Lately, the tides have been turning to _my_ favour; _I'm_ the one who gets what he wants now!"  
"We know you, Prussia," England then hissed into his ear, pressing the cold blade of his sword just a little closer to Prussia's neck. He ignored the Prussian's threats completely, and the kingdom realised England still didn't speak a word German. Just wonderful, now he would have to threaten them in _multiple_ languages. "We know very well that you're a strategical genius; we've adapted to that."  
"Well," Prussia laughed, almost flattered by the nation's words. "I'm glad that finally _someone_ acknowledges my awesome wits. But do you really think you can outsmart me? We'll see about that, Tea-sucker!" Then, without any warning, he let himself drop backwards, pushing England to the ground with his weight. As they fell, he grabbed England's swordhand with his own and simply tugged at it; the unexpected fall combined with the little amount of strength Prussia put into pulling his hand away from his neck made England let go almost instantly. A split second later, the two countries lay on the ground, Prussia on top of England and pressing heavily onto his chest, and the sword lay at a safe distance from the albino's neck. He twisted around, swift as a snake, so that he faced the nation, who was still recovering from the fall and having Prussia land on top of him. The younger kingdom then jumped to his feet, but landed a punch in England's face as he did so. Then, Prussia glanced over his shoulder. His sword lay on the grass just a few feet away from him -closer to Austria than himself. He judged the distance in a split second, saw Austria lunging at him with his own sword, then dived; he managed to duck under Austria's arm, just barely missing the sharp sword, then barged into his cousin's abdomen, practically carrying him off his feet and throwing him away. Austria landed on his feet, but staggered for a moment just long enough for Prussia to grab his own weapon. By then, England had gotten to his feet again, too.  
But the two older countries seemed to realise by now that they had a worthy opponent. And these first attacks he had been unarmed; England eyed the sword in Prussia's hand almost fearfully. But then he grinned. "It seems like we're fighting a lefty, Austria," he said to his ally. "Advantages and disadvantages for us there. Let's make use of the former and avoid the latter."  
To mock his enemy, Prussia tossed his sword in the air and caught it with his right hand. "Too bad," he jeered. "I've trained myself to be ambidextrous in combat. Just to give you a heads-up; this wouldn't be a fair fight otherwise, would it? Say goodbye to your 'advantages'." Then he charged forward, knocking Austria aside with his sword before tossing it back to his left hand and blocking an attack from England.  
He grinned almost animalistically. "Told you." Then he kicked his opponent in the stomach, and England doubled over, stumbling backward as he gritted his teeth in pain.  
Meanwhile, Prussia had already adjusted his entire plan: first he had to find a way to be rid of England constantly attacking him whenever he got close to Austria, then he would go for his cousin and do what he came here to do. He would, one way or the other, find a way to get Austria out of this war. And with Austria gone, the war couldn't last much longer.  
So, after kicking Austria out of his way once again (it was almost too easy), he dealt England a quick series of blows that were meant to confuse him, mainly because he would be switching hands every few seconds. And after some time, it seemed to work. He saw England's bright coloured eyes dart from one side to the other, trying to follow Prussia's movements but failing by now. Then, the moment he saw an opening in the kingdom's defenses, Prussia knocked the flat side of his sword down on England's arm, and he felt bone crack with the force of it. Instantly, England let go of his own sword, and Prussia caught it effortlessly. A second later, he stood with both swords in his grasp, crossed, and both grazing the soft skin on England's neck. The old country just stood there, staring wide-eyed at the sword that had been in his own grasp just seconds before and was now threatening to slit his throat if he so much as moved.  
"Checkmate," Prussia choked out; he was gasping for breath by now, but it was a mere nuisance that he could overlook. He wasn't done yet.  
He then turned to look at Austria, who was staring at him with the same astonished expression England was, and so were the humans there; those decided to be wise and stay out of this fight. "Why don't you just make this easier for the both of us," Prussia taunted, "and stab yourself already?" He gave Austria a second to respond, and when the archduchy didn't, he launched a full-out attack on him: he slashed, stabbed and thrust with the two swords he now held, injuring Austria but not badly so. He was playing with him; the real fight would come once he got his cousin down on his knees.  
That moment came sooner than he had thought.  
Austria wasn't exactly on his knees, but that was all the better. Prussia had kicked him against his hip, and right now he half sat on the ground, just about scrambling up again. Prussia didn't give him that chance. Instead, he lashed out like lightning, stomping down on Austria's left leg, and felt bone snap and crunch beneath his feet. Austria howled in pain at this, then gritted his teeth and glared up at Prussia, but only for a second; that was when Prussia did the same to his right leg, also. The Austrian let out another cry of pain, then, as he sat trembling, seemed to will Prussia to drop dead right where he stood with his gaze. Dark blue eyes were ablaze with anger, and meeting them were an emotionless red pair.  
Prussia knelt down in front of Austria, patting his head. "Now you won't be fighting me anymore, will you?" he asked almost sweetly. He glanced at his cousin's broken legs then, and added softly to him: "I think it might be a while before you even _walk_ again."  
Austria was still glaring murderously at him, but it seemed like the blazing pain in his crushed legs had robbed him of his voice completely. Prussia just smiled at him, innocently as if nothing had happened. "Well, good luck anyway, cousin o'mine!" He then gave Austria a quick peck on the forehead, ruffled his hair a bit and got to his feet again, turning around to leave. But before he did so, he glanced at the humans, who were all staring at him in complete horror, and then at England, who had his shocked gaze fixed on Austria. The young man looked ghastly pale, and it wouldn't surprise Prussia if he would collapse right then and there; this had clearly been the complete opposite of what he had been expecting.  
"Thanks, England!" he called to the Briton, grinning. "It was fun!"  
And then he left, silent, not looking back. But his stomach twisted at what he had just done.  
 _Those fractures will heal. They should heal eventually. I did_ _ **not**_ _cripple my cousin, I didn't!_  
He kept on telling himself that all the way back to the battlefield, and during the rest of the battle as well; this was the first time that he could not shake off memories by fighting. Austria's agonised screams haunted him more than he thought they would.  
 _It was all for a good cause..._

* * *

That evening was the first time ever that Fritz had hit Prussia. When he heard what his kingdom had done, the man had been outraged, and righteously so according to Prussia himself. But the country did the same he had done all day; he told himself that he had done it with good reason, the best reason even -he had done it to put an end to a war, after all- and that Austria's legs would heal, even if it took time. _The bones should be set again now,_ he thought vaguely after he had locked himself in his office in the nearby fortress that evening. _He probably won't be allowed to move them for a few weeks... but once the bones are all healed again, he'll be fine._ And by then, if everything went according to plan, the war would be over. Still, he felt sick when he remembered the few bones he had broken and had needed to be set again over the centuries: both hurt equally, almost, and he did feel bad for Austria.  
Which was strange, because he still hated his cousin with a passion. A burning, blazing passion like none he had ever felt before. So how come he felt bad about hurting him like this?  
Well, it was only human to think like that. _Even though I'm not human_.  
By the time night fell and the moon had already travelled so far across the sky that he knew it was way past midnight, the memories of his actions the day before still haunted him, and though he was tired, he couldn't even _think_ about sleep. So for the tenth time that night, he got up out of bed after another hopeless attempt to rest, lit a candle on his desk and grabbed paper, a quill and ink.

 _27 May 1745_

 _Austria,_

 _I would like to offer you my sincerest apologies for the injuries and without a doubt unbearable pain I inflicted upon you yesterday. I did so for reasons I will not even begin to explain, since I know you will never accept them. Nor will you accept my apology, I know. I sure wouldn't, so I don't blame you._  
 _But please, stop this war. You know who will win, and you know you're only postponing the inevitable. Silesia is mine now; there was no unfairness in how I obtained it, and fighting to regain it so quickly after you've lost it is just a sign of you being a poor loser._  
 _Now don't get me wrong on that one -I'm sure that must've come out more bluntly than I had intended. But facts are facts, Austria, and you're hurting me and yourself more than is necessary._  
 _You were right about one thing, I must add: doing a country-swap like England did with Saxony is a smart move. Shame it got you nowhere in the end. It came as a great surprise to me, I must admit._  
 _You will probably not believe me, and again, I do not blame you in the slightest, but I wish you a swift recovery. I swear to God, I do._  
 _You may curse me all you want; my soul is rotten already, anyway, a few more curses and condemnations won't affect me too badly, I'm sure._

 _-Prussia_

He stared at the letter after he had written it for what seemed like quite a while. Had he seriously just written all that? He read it over and over again, then sighed and shook his head, laying it aside for now. He would decide in the morning whether or not he would send it.  
Still, sleep did not come easy.

* * *

The year passed, more battles were fought and won, and eventually, a treaty came to end it. It was 25 December 1745, and Prussia, Austria and Saxony were in the Saxon city of Dresden, and though they did not participate in the signing of the treaty, the two parties' respective allies were there, too, to help support their allies' rights in negotiations -which in turn would benefit them as well, naturally.  
Prussia didn't know what bothered him more: the pure hatred and loathing that seemed to be radiating from Hungary whenever they were close to each other, or the difficulty with which Austria walked now. His cousin used two canes to support himself with as he walked, and sitting seemed to be the only thing he could keep up long. But it had been worse, of course. Austria had been confined to his bed and then a wheelchair for months. Prussia had never sent him his letter, but now he wished he had. It didn't make anything better, of course nothing would. But he wanted Austria to know that he was sorry for what he had done to him, for once in his life.  
But he could never say it out loud.  
Could he?

"Go talk to him," France practically ordered Prussia the moment the meeting was over, and they watched Austria, Saxony and Hungary leave the conference room. " _Right now._ "  
Before Prussia could answer, Spain pushed him off his chair and to his feet, frowning as he looked at his younger friend. "And apologise," he added to France's words, not a single trace of his usual joy left anywhere in his face or voice. "What you did was the polar opposite of awesome!"  
Prussia gritted his teeth, feeling tense all over. "I know, I know," he grumbled, only glancing at his friends over his shoulder. "Chill a bit, both of you; I was going to do so, anyway."  
"Were you?"  
Prussia didn't answer that question and just went off quickly, not quite running but certainly walking fast to catch up to the three countries -but with Austria in this state, that wasn't difficult. He still hesitated when he finally caught up to them, but eventually forced himself to just call out to them. All three countries stopped walking and turned around at the same time. Saxony's gaze only barely betrayed his contempt, Hungary's was giving off the same hateful vibes as earlier, but Austria's was completely blank. It nearly made the Prussian flinch.  
But it didn't stop him. Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, he began softly: "Hey, er, I... well..."  
"What do you want?" Hungary snapped, glaring murderously at him. "Haven't you caused enough trouble yet?" Prussia nearly jumped at her tone, she was that scary for just a moment. From the corners of his eyes, Prussia saw something flash in Saxony's eyes when the older country looked at them, and his stomach twisted when he realised Saxony had been there when he'd... when he'd had his 'little breakdown', as he had come to call it. _Don't comment on it now, please...!_  
But the Saxon didn't. Instead, he turned around, saying he would leave them to it for now; this probably wasn't his business to begin with.  
Hungary didn't even look up when her ally said this. She just took a step closer to Prussia, threateningly. "We're going to get back at you for this, you monster," she said, hissed almost, and she even drew her lips back a little like a cat would before lashing out with claws and teeth. "If you do not _give_ Silesia back to its rightfull owner, we will _take_ it, and we'll take all the rest you've established for yourself along with it! Say goodbye to your new status, Prussia; you won't have it for long."  
It wasn't so much her words, but instead her voice which seemed to cut into Prussia's heart. He felt a sudden stab of cold agony explode in his chest, and he stood rigid for a moment. Much to his surprise, Hungary's face contorted in utter horror, and Austria followed suit a split second later. The freezing pain in Prussia's chest stopped him from breathing, the cold seemingly creeping into his lungs, making him cough barely more than a second after it had appeared.  
Droplets of blood splattered against Hungary's horrified face.  
Confused and startled out of his skin by this, Prussia stared down, only to see the bloodied end of a sword sticking out of his chest. A heartbeat later, he heard a voice hiss into his ear: "You've caused enough suffering and misery in this world, you _devil!_ " Then the sword was pulled back, sliding out of his body again, and blood came spurting out of his wound. It rose like bile in his throat, making him cough again, the thick liquid gushing over his lips.  
His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the cold, stone floor. As he did so, he heard a voice call his name, sounding as horrified as Austria and Hungary had looked just a moment ago, but he couldn't tell whose voice it was. His ears were ringing and his mind buzzing, the noise screaming into his ears louder than anything else, and it screamed of only one thing: _pain._  
Still, Prussia rolled himself over onto his back just two seconds later, gazing up. His mind could just about comprehend that he was looking at a human, which somehow eased his panic at this sudden and grave injury, but only for a very brief moment. Barely 10 seconds had passed since he'd been stabbed, when he realised he couldn't breathe. No matter what he tried, it was impossible to draw in air.  
What happened after that was a blur to Prussia. As he lay, struggling in vain to breathe but only coughing up more of his precious life force in the progress, he heard voices, footsteps, utter panic around him. He could make out some words, but not who spoke them.  
"What have you done?!"  
"I was merely trying to-!"  
"Prussia, by God, hang on now!"  
"I'll get help. I-I'll get help right away!"  
The first thing he could really process and comprehend again came moments later, when he saw Austria kneel down in front of him. His dark blue eyes were still expressionless as he reached out and laid a hand on Prussia's head. He didn't know what exactly, but something about this told Prussia that he and Austria were alone just now. "Inflicted by a human or not, that looks serious," the Austrian commented flatly, staring Prussia in the eyes. A tiny smile then played at the aristocrat's lips, and he bent forward, whispering sharply into Prussia's ear: "Well, good luck with it anyway, _cousin o'mine._ " Then he leant in just a little bit closer, gave Prussia a quick peck on the forehead and ruffled his white hair mockingly as the Prussian lay choking on his own blood. The sentiment behind this horrified Prussia even more than the state he was in right now.  
"Prussia!"  
" _Mon dieu,_ what happened?!"  
Austria had just gotten back to his feet when France and Spain ran towards Prussia, followed more closely by Hungary, who Prussia now realised had gone to get the two countries there. France knelt down beside him and lifted him half onto his lap, holding the Prussian so that he was sitting up; blood spilled over his lips even faster now, but it did nothing for his breathing. He didn't know how long he'd been without oxygen now, but he could feel his consciousness beginning to slip away slowly. "His lung has been punctured," France concluded softly, holding the choking kingdom closer, letting him lean against his chest and shoulder. "There's no way he can breathe like this..."  
"Prussia, you have to hold on!" Spain urged him on his other side, holding him by the shoulder and staring at him with terrified green eyes. "S-Saxony has gone to get your king, and then-"  
And then what? Fritz wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop this. But Prussia knew he would be fine, impossible as it seemed; it had been a mere human.  
"You cannot ask such impossible things of him, Spain," France scolded the Spaniard gently. "Look at the blood he's lost; it will be a miracle if he stays conscious until Frederick even arrives here. It's sheer impossible to, even."  
 _Impossible?_ Somehow that word made Prussia indescribably angry. He gathered all the strength he had left before that, too, would flow out of his body, and parted his lips a little further. He could produce nothing but a ghastly gurgling at first, but then his voice, weak and raspy, followed: "...ot...n-n...ot..."  
France seemed startled at this. "Save your breath, Prussia!" he urged him, sounding panicked. "Don't even _try_ to talk you-!"  
But Prussia didn't give up. He narrowed his eyes in frustration and kept on trying. "N..not... i-i-imp...ossib...ble..."  
The other countries around him were silent for a moment, and then France sighed, chuckling under his breath. "Of course, I forgot," he whispered in a gentle tone. "You're Prussia, after all. Nothing is impossible for you."  
Satisfied now, Prussia leant more heavily against France now, feeling the remnants of his strength leaving his body quickly. But he had made his resolve: he would stay conscious and alert until Fritz was there, if only to prove a point -that nothing could defeat him until he allowed himself to be beaten. And a special little message meant specifically for Austria: _you will never be stronger than me._  
He heard Spain ask Austria and Hungary about the human who had done this, but he didn't listen to it too much. The explanation of why a human would attack him from behind was something for a later time, for him at least. The only word he picked up out of the answer was 'evil', and that one word sent a chill through his very being.  
Then, what were probably only seconds but seemed like an eternity later, he heard Fritz call out to him, and footsteps rapidly coming closer. Then when he saw the man's face, just inches away from his, he almost smiled.  
 _I did it...!_  
And then everything went black.

* * *

"He's starting to look a little better, isn't he?"  
"His blood must be regenerating. That means all internal damage must be healed, too."  
"The wound looks like a scar already, see? I promise you, Your Majesty, from here on it'll go fast; he'll be back with us pretty soon."  
Prussia lay still and just listened to the voices around him. He couldn't place a face or name to the voices as he heard them, but he could tell who were there: France, Spain, Saxony and of course Fritz. If there was anyone else, they weren't talking or being talked to. He tried to shift, but couldn't, and then decided he felt better laying completely still anyway. He didn't have the energy to move. So he just lay there, listening. He actually felt content like that. He liked these people, and he liked hearing their voices, so why not? Now if he could figure out what they were talking about...  
"What's the matter, France?" He thought that was Spain, but he wasn't sure.  
Naturally, the answer came from France himself, he had no doubt. "It's just... I know we like to tease him, but..." A sigh. "In the state he's in now, he really does look like... like just a boy. He really is still just a boy, and just consider... It's so horrible that someone so young should have to go through things like he has. But I think it's just as horrible that someone so young has done the things he's done in life... How can a child be so-?"  
"Don't say evil."  
"I wasn't going to. So _troubled,_ so... so _unstable._ "  
Now what did that mean? And who were they talking about? Prussia furrowed his brows in frustration as he tried again to move and make a sound. The latter came first, and the moment he hummed softly, all other voices became silent. After a short struggle, he groggily opened his eyes, staring into the blurred faces of his allies, Fritz and Saxony. But there were others, too: a girl about his age, with brown hair and bright blue eyes, and a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man with even paler, more piercing blue eyes than the girl, his hair reaching to over his shoulders and with a single braid at the front. And then there was another female, a teenager dark brown, nearly black hair and grey eyes. He blinked at them, hoping to get a clearer view of their faces, but then they were gone as if they hadn't been there in the first place. Prussia stared just a little longer, but they really weren't there anymore, and he gave up, instead turning to the people who _were_ there, and weren't just figments of his imagination.  
Fritz looked too relieved to speak, instead smiling at Prussia like he hadn't seen his dear friend in years. Prussia smiled back, though he looked as tired as he felt.  
"He's awake!" Spain nearly cheered, but he remembered to keep his voice down. Still, he looked nearly as happy as Fritz did. "Prussia, how are you feeling? And don't you dare say 'fine' or something, we know that'd be a lie!"  
Prussia sighed. Like he was stupid enough to try and lie now! He was awesome enough to admit how awful he felt when there was no denying it anymore, like now. It was only when he thought the lie could be believable that he tried to deny the truth. "Really, _really_ tired..." he answered softly, shifting a bit now to be more comfortable. "Like I just lost half my people in one go or something... crap."  
Saxony cracked a grin at this, though there was no joy in his expression. "Well, you lost the blood to match it," he replied to his younger brother. "I'd imagine it would feel like that. But look at the bright side: you'll recover much more quickly than if you'd really lost all those people."  
Prussia grinned back at him now, managing some mischief to appear in his gaze. "I'll feel better even sooner if you pay me those one million rixdollars," he quipped, though he was in fact rather serious at the same time. "C'mon, brother, you'll give my economy that little boost now that I'm like this, won't you? To help me?" He chuckled a little when Saxony's grin faded into anger, but then the Saxon, too, laughed a bit, calling Prussia a bastard for it.  
When he heard that word, Prussia suddenly remembered something, too. "About bastards... Who was the coward that stabbed me from behind?" He wanted to know now. _Right now._  
The four other people all looked at each other for a moment. Fritz then sighed. "He was just a random Saxon soldier, Prussia," he explained softly. "Trust me, he will be severely punished for it -he'll wish the thought of attacking you like that had never even occured to him, I swear it."  
Prussia was quiet for a moment, then sighed, looking away and saying in a whisper: "He... he called me devil..." Then, more loudly he added: "Do you know why he attacked me?"  
Spain answered now, looking very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "W-well, _amigo,_ he... He thought you had caused enough trouble for everyone by now, humans and countries alike, and he... probably decided the world would be better off if you... well, you know." He hesitated for a moment, then added: "That's why he called you devil: in his opinion, Prussia, you're... evil."  
Everyone was silent for a moment after this. But then, much to everyone's surprise -and that included his own- Prussia sighed and shrugged. "Well, that's what everyone's been saying about me since the day I was born. It's not like I'm not used to it." The words had stung like a thousand needles for a moment, but a moment was all it lasted; the pain had faded away now, and Prussia didn't care anymore. He was right, after all, people had called him this for as long as he remembered. Only this time, the man had actually had a valid reason for his claims, and that made it all a million times more painful yet at the same time less so. The albino kingdom gritted his teeth, red eyes glinting angrily. "If the world expects me to be evil," he muttered through tightly clenched jaws, "then I will meet their expectations, and _surpass_ them, I swear to God. It doesn't matter how much effort I put into being a good person, I always mess up in the end and do something that will make everyone hate me again. So why _would_ I still put in so much effort? I can just do whatever the hell I like, it's not like it'll change their opinions of me."  
"Prussia," Fritz tried to interrupt him softly, shaking his head. "Stop it, please. This isn't you."  
"Oh yeah?" Prussia just retorted, turning his angry stare in his king's direction. "How do you know? Because I don't! _I_ don't even know who I am, for God's sake, how can _you_?" He then glanced around at the three countries with him, glaring. Spain looked shocked and somewhat sad, but in Saxony and France's eyes lay only a mild disgust and otherwise unreadible emotions. Prussia just met their stares with constantly increasing rage. "What are you staring at me for?" he snapped, sitting up straighter now. "It's not like I _want_ to be this way, but I am! If so many generations of people all over Europe have been calling me a demon, if humans have thought this of me all my life so far, then surely there must be truth in it? Who do you think is wrong in this case -the thousands upon thousands of people who all think the same thing of me, or _me_ , trying to prove them wrong and failing all the time?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed the others had laid him in when he'd been unconscious and got up, ignoring Fritz's protest and Spain's warning that he should be careful since he couldn't be fully recovered yet.  
Prussia felt a tidal wave of dizziness wash over him once he was on his feet, but he managed to not even stagger in spite of it. Slower than usual and a bit unsteady on his feet, he walked out of the room, but before he did so, he said -vowed- without even looking at anyone: "If the world really still thinks so badly of me, why not prove them right? If I really am the Devil, then I will act like it too. One day, I swear, I'll unleash hell on Europe for treating me this way all my life." Both his expression and his voice were completely devoid of emotion as he added: "And if need be... the _world_ will meet the same fate soon after." Then he left, without looking back.

Prussia had managed to prove to Europe that he was stronger, smarter, _better_ than all of them in so many ways. He had risen to power, status, both fame and infamy over the course of the two Silesian Wars. Yet the world couldn't come to respect him yet? They couldn't even bring themselves to _accept_ him yet?  
He wouldn't deny that he had done horrible things in his life. But how many of his kind were there, really, who weren't just like him in that respect? They had all waged wars and they had all slain thousands of people in those. Rome hadn't been condemned by the world for conquering others, Germania hadn't been hated because he'd contributed to Rome's death. Hell, not even Lithuania was being shunned, and he had killed his own _sister_ , intentionally or not.  
But Prussia couldn't even wage war against others and do one or two 'cruel' things without being declared evil for it? And most people didn't even know that he had killed Bavaria all those years ago. What was the fairness in that?  
So right this moment, he would stop fighting it. He would stop trying to be a good person. No one would ever think of him that way, anyway, no matter what he did. Studying certain medical procedures between the two Silesian Wars had been for nothing, clearly; even if he helped save lives, the only thing people would know him for was that he took just as many as he saved. And so, right now, he would also stop telling himself that he had hurt Austria like he had to put an end to a war; what a lie that had been. It just didn't work like that, after all.  
He had done it because he'd _wanted_ to.

* * *

 **Now it's up to you guys to figure out which was the most honest of his opinions over his own actions: the guilt, or this last part?  
Well, I don't blame Prussia _too_ much. I know I wouldn't stay sane if the entire world treated me like they have him all my life. And my life will probably not even last a single century, let alone the five-and-a-bit he's lived at this point in the story.  
Still... I suppose it's not an excuse. Merely an explanation. Those are two different things.**

 **Anyway, some of my theories about Hetalia canon in this: remember how Austria's character bio stated that he'd spent part of his life in a wheelchair? Well, there you go. Prussia was to blame for it. And it didn't last too long, really -not as long as this certain character I've written before (whose name I will not write here in case someone here has yet to read those fics and to avoid spoilers).  
Still, that was accidental. This wasn't.**

 **Oh, Prussia, my dear... just don't listen to the world. You're awesome, just ignore those unawesome nay-sayers. There are people who love you, deary. (Though to be fair, except for Fritz, the only ones in-story who really love him are dead... poor baby).**

 **Also, the people who were there when he woke up but 'vanished': I'm sure you must've figured out it were Brandenburg and Germania, and if not, here you go. The third person I described was the previous Prussia.**

 **I hope you liked the chapter despite Prussia's... Prussia-ness (for now that is a synonym for 'mentally unstable yet somehow loveable bastard'). Thanks for reading!**


	39. Chapter 39

**Okay, I'll admit, I was being a jerk to Prussia last week...**

 **So for this one -filler alert! And a light-hearted one. Well, most of it anyway.**

 **MissiriKoharehn, Abc, TheBlueAcid, TheOldKaiser, pinkdoughnuts, Ascella Noelle, thanks for the reviews! Toesz, thanks for the favourite!  
Can I just say I love how you all kinda said the same thing? XD  
TheBlueAcid, I agree with you, what people say to you does not define who you are. But did you consider just how long Prussia's been hearing these things? We're not talking years here, not even decades, after all. Much more.  
So I do think that not even the most strong-willed soul would be able to stand being tormented for so long without breaking... poor thing.**

 **Well, as I said, this chapter should be a bit more _fun_ than the last. (And I did not become nostalgic writing this, no not at all.) It's not a complete filler, it just sets the base for the next chapter. (Still kinda filler-ish)  
I hope you'll enjoy!**

* * *

 _18 January 1756_

 _New allies! Those are always nice. I hope they won't betray me like that damn Frenchie did, signing an alliance with Austria and Russia. Bastard. He and I hadn't really been getting along since that little stabbing incident._  
 _Thankfully Spain isn't so bad. Yet._  
 _But hey, if a new war is coming, at least I know I'll get to fight against some of my most hated people on this planet; Austria and Russia in one go? Almost too good to be true. And I don't mind kicking France's treacherous ass, either!_

 _But there is one thing to it:_ _why_ _must my new allies arrive here_ _today_ _? I'm telling you, Fritz planned this thing! Stupid bastard that he can sometimes be._  
 _I should've never picked a birthday for myself... Except during wartime, he has somehow always managed to remember it, and it's annoying. Usually he ends up playing the flute, though. I can handle that._  
 _Just so long as he keeps quiet in front of Great Britain. Otherwise today, and all the other days that they're here until they'll travel back again, will be so unawesome._

"So tell this old man something, Prussia," Fritz said as he sat at his desk, reading some documents and writing one as well while the kingdom sat on the corner of said desk, staring at the work his king was doing. "I have never really asked before, have I? How old are you exactly?"  
"Well, I can't tell you _exactly,_ " Prussia grumbled in response. He didn't really like this topic, for some reason. He just didn't care about it in the least. But Fritz was a human, and he supposed age mattered more to humans than to him. "But _if_ today had actually _really_ been my birthday -I have no idea when the actual one would be, to be honest- then... let me see..." He thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes, then sighed. "Crap... 564."  
"What 'crap' about that?" Fritz asked, not looking up from his work but adding quickly that Prussia should mind his language once their guests would arrive. "Try your 40s in human age; _not fun_ , I can tell you. At least _you're_ still in your prime, I'm past mine already."  
Prussia sighed and chuckled for a moment. He was starting to believe his king had a bit of an age crisis going on. Which, considering both his father and grandfather had died in their 50s and Fritz was only about a decade away from that now, wasn't too surprising. But Prussia told himself that Fritz couldn't die by that age yet, no way. He was a lot healthier than those two had been by this age.  
"Nah, it works the other way around for me," he just told the human, still smiling. "I'm _still_ a child among nations, you see. There are others who are as young as me -or younger- but not very many. Especially compared to the family we'll see today -they're all way old!"  
Fritz looked up now, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Well, they all look like they're in their 20s to me," he stated flatly.  
Prussia laughed. "Yeah, right! Trust me, take _that_ age and mutiply it by 100 or something, then you'll get somewhere close to their real age -they're _ancient._ "  
By now, Fritz's smirk only grew wider, and he looked past Prussia at the doorway now. "Well, all right, I'll admit," he said softly. "The ginger one looks like he could be in his 30s."  
Prussia stared at him, confused, then felt blood rise to his face as he realised that the only way his king could be saying this like he was now, was if he was... looking at them. Immediately, Prussia spun around, still sitting on his king's desk, and Fritz scolded him under his breath for knocking a stack of papers over as he did so. Feeling about as awkward as he possibly could, Prussia saw five people standing in the doorway, one of them being someone who worked here, and the other four clearly being nations. He smiled sheepishly, about the only thing he could right now. "Eh... hey there, you lot... hah..." Scotland and England didn't look too pleased, Wales and Ireland looked rather confused at their brother's reactions, and Prussia just realised he and Fritz had been speaking French to each other -a habit the human'd had since forever. As he greeted them so awkwardly, Scotland leaned in closer to Wales and Ireland and whispered something to them, probably translating, because Ireland -'the ginger one'- went red at this and huffed angrily. Wales only laughed and patted his eldest brother on the shoulder.  
Meanwhile, Fritz had already gotten to his feet and walked over to his nation guests, greeting them politely. Then he beckoned for Prussia to come stand beside him. The moment the kingdom did so, though, Wales unexpectedly exclaimed -in _Latin_ , of all languages: " _Pipsqueak!_ "  
The other people all stared at him, most of them in confusion. Only Prussia and England seemed to understand him. The Welshman, however, didn't seem to care much about what his brothers thought, or anyone else for that matter. He was just smiling at Prussia as he said again: "Pipsqueak, it's you! Damn, I _knew_ it would be you -back then you never told me your name, you see, it was always guesswork for me who the little pale pipsqueak was who came and insulted me like you did!" He chuckled then, looking pleased that he had figured it out finally. "Well, looks like you've finally grown up, eh?"  
By now, Prussia was smiling too, and England only stared at them like they were insane. "And you look better than when we last met, too," Prussia stated, grinning mischievously. "Finally out of the stables, I see?"  
"Oh, bugger off."  
Scotland then asked England something, and the Englishman, looking at both his brother and the Prussian king, replied in French. "Well, er," he began hesitantly. "Let's just say they, well... they know each other, I think? To be fair, I've heard quite a few insults just now."  
"But they're smiling?"  
"Don't ask _me_ , dammit, I have no idea either!"  
Poor Ireland just looked like he felt completely left out right now. But no one paid any attention to him at the moment -which probably only made it worse. "Don't you speak English yet?" Wales asked Prussia with a sigh.  
Prussia shrugged. "Don't _you_ speak French yet? It seems like we're stuck with Latin, then."  
Fritz then finally asked them to stop speaking such an impossible language to each other -he had guessed it was Latin, but that was about as far as he'd gotten. England still looked like he had no trouble at all following what his brother and Prussia had said to each other, and Prussia suddenly remembered what France and Spain had told him -that Rome was England's father. Well, it had sure paid off in one respect, then.  
With a quick Latin apology to Wales, Prussia switched back to French again. "Well, uhm," he laughed sheepishly, feeling awkward all over again now that all stares were turned on him. "Sorry about that. I hope the four of you have had a good journey, getting here? It must have taken you quite a while." He glanced quickly at Fritz, who now seemed pleased with his kingdom again; at least he was behaving himself once more. Happy now, Prussia turned back to his guests. "Unless you want to start now, I suppose we can wait with going over the actual alliance until you've all rested up a bit."  
Scotland grinned now and chuckled briefly. "I'll take you up on that offer, then," he said gratefully. "I don't know about Artie and the others, but having to sit in a damn carriage is beyond annoying. Why we couldn't just ride horses ourselves is beyond me. You see, it feels especially cramped if it's together with these three idiots," he added, gesturing to his brothers.  
Ireland, who had only looked like he had gotten more and more annoyed over the past few minutes, now turned on his younger brother and angrily yelled at him, then looked like he nearly wanted to hit England over the head before Wales stepped in to try and calm him down again, though he too looked annoyed with the fact that he couldn't follow the conversation. Prussia quickly asked England to translate for them, and much to his surprise, he did so without hesitation or complaints. "I don't even know what I'm doing here, damn you!" he translated the English into French as quick as he could. "I don't speak your stupid French and that... that... whatever-the-hell language Dylan -that's Wales- just spoke, and I'm not even part of your bloody Great Britain, and thus not part of this goddamn alliance either. I'm going home and you can't stop me!" Then England sighed and shrugged. "And now he just keeps on going like that, so I'll stop here... Wise choice, there's the tidal wave of profanity -yes, even more than before. Much, much more." He shook his head dismissively, then turned to look at Fritz and Prussia again. "While these three are at it like this, maybe it would be a good idea to go somewhere else for negotiations, all right? Trust me, this will take a while."  
The two Prussians just quietly agreed, and the three hastily slipped away from England's brothers.

* * *

Once somewhere quiet, the two kingdoms and the king just sat down and started talking. England's face lit up when a servant came and offered him tea, but after two tiny sips he'd set it aside and never touched it again. Prussia tried not to notice this silent insult.  
"You must know by now, Prussia," the Englishman began solemnly, "that Austria wants to take back Silesia. France will be a problem for you, too -I don't know for sure what his intentions are, but I can tell you they're not good. Something must've snapped in him at the end of the Second Silesian War; he's been against you ever since then, though I do not know why." He sighed, deciding to not even begin about Russia. Everyone knew Russia was a threat these days.  
"I'm not afraid of them," Prussia stated bluntly, looking at England with an emotionless gaze, But in truth, his stomach was twisting at the thought of fighting another war. _Let's give the world another reason to hate me, why not?_ After the Second Silesian War, he'd been in a pretty dark place for a while, but he'd mostly gotten over it by now. It had been Fritz and his siblings, and also the king's nephews and nieces, who had made him feel better again. There _were_ people who cared about him, even if they were all humans. There _were_ people who saw the good in him no matter what he did. Maybe it was worth fighting the world's opinions of him just a little longer, he had decided, if only for the Hohenzollern family's sake.  
England smirked at this. "I didn't think you were, that would've been unlike you. Still, I do think you'll appreciate financial and military support, right?" Prussia just answered that money was always welcome and that, maybe, he could help get the British army in shape, too. England snickered when the Prussian said this, and Prussia was pleasantly surprised. He'd never thought he and England would be able to get along together, but it was going well so far. _And maybe it's not only the Hohenzollerns who don't hate me, after all..._ This day was getting better than he had feared it would be. Then, England grinned, his emerald eyes twinkling. "Well, Prussia, let me tell you: _they're_ afraid of _you_. Seriously, the Austrian army is terrified of you!" Still grinning, he tried to control his voice a little more -it probably wasn't too nice to hear that people were afraid of you, he mumbled apologetically before continuing: "But the nickname they have for you is one I'm sure you'll appreciate. To the Austrians, Prussia, you're 'the Black Eagle' -sometimes they even add 'Legendary'. The kingdom of Prussia is a _legend_ among Austrian soldiers, I mean it! Such a small, unimportant kingdom, but he gained so much power almost overnight, they say. They hadn't expected to be so gravely defeated as they were, not by you. People respect you for your strength, for how well-organised your government is-" Fritz looked especially proud of that particular part. "-and even though they try not to, they _admire_ you. People these days realise very well that you started out with nothing, _as_ nothing, and just look what you worked yourself up to be!" He paused, letting those words sink in for a moment, smiling when he saw the pure joy in Prussia's red eyes. "Also, I can tell you now, you won't be facing Austria himself; he's out of the army for good after that little stunt you pulled 11 years ago."  
"Why's that?" Prussia asked, tilting his head a little. Guilt was gnawing at his insides again, and he felt nervous as England shrugged and answered that his legs had just never healed enough that he could fight again. Prussia only nodded, silent.  
England seemed to notice how he felt, for the nation sighed and leaned forward a bit. "Look," he began softly, "I'm only glad to see that at least you feel remorse; what you did that day was monstrous." Before Prussia got the chance to reply, then Englishman already sat back again, shrugging once again. "But for now, we need only look at the advantages this situation has for us, you hear me? So cheer up."  
Then the older kingdom's brothers walked in, Ireland's little rebellion settled down again, and the conversation continued. In the end, they made the deal that either Wales or Scotland would be joining Prussia on the European mainland, and the other would go with England to fight in the colonies. That, and Scotland would spend the coming week teaching Prussia the basics of English, the old kingdom had declared with a grin in the albino's direction. Prussia had only laughed and said that he would in turn teach Scotland some German, then. And, to avoid Ireland's anger a second time, either England or Scotland -whoever wasn't talking at the moment- translated the entire conversation to English for Ireland and Wales.  
Then, slowly, the evening passed and night fell. The next day, Fritz had told Prussia, the countries should try to get to know each other better, and Prussia had mixed feelings about it; what if these new allies betrayed him, like everyone else had in the past? He wasn't sure if getting to know them was a good idea. Betrayal would hurt less if he didn't allow himself to create a bond with them.

* * *

The next morning, the first thing Prussia realised about his new allies was that Ireland was a lot gentler than he had appeared the two times that Prussia had seen him so far; listening in on a conversation the four brothers were having in English, he realised how annoying it was not to understand anything that was being said. He would've probably gotten frustrated, too.  
Wales seemed kind, too, though he could certainly make himself heard if he wanted to, and going by facial expressions and tone of voice, it wasn't always in a good way.  
Scotland appeared to be a little like Saxony was. Clearly he was the joker in the family. Even though he didn't hear what was being said exactly, Prussia could tell that the red-haired kingdom was taking each of his brothers' opinions and feelings into consideration with everything he said. Because of this, Prussia could only describe him as being the 'gentle giant' of the little family -he was, after all, the tallest of them, though Ireland wasn't far behind.  
England, well... He _wanted_ to take the leading role in the family, Prussia could tell that much. But with three older brothers, he was being treated as the runt of the litter, anyway, which amused Prussia to no end. When Scotland eventually grabbed him and ruffled his blonde hair a bit, Prussia couldn't help but laugh at England's expression -which immediately gave away his position and the fact that he had been eavesdropping on them all this time. But when the four realised that the Prussian hadn't understood a word of it, anyway, they shrugged it off and didn't seem to care.  
All in all, he thought he would be able to get along with them in the end, one better than the other maybe, but that was generally the case anyway.

That afternoon, much to Prussia's dismay, he caught a short wave of sickness again. Just once every few days now that he was under threat of so many countries at the same time, he would unfortunately get sick, mostly just being dizzy and absent-minded but sometimes feeling sudden waves of nausea too.  
And today just _had_ to be the latter, naturally. Because whatever was up there, controlling this world, just really loved teasing him like that, making him feel this way when he had _four_ allies over. Wonderful.  
However, it did lead to his first-ever contact with Ireland. More or less.  
Prussia just sat outside in the courtyard, hoping some fresh air would help him feel better more quickly. So far it wasn't working, though, and eventually he stumbled over to a bush to throw up in. Maybe he would feel less nauseated after that, finally. Just... maybe.  
But of course, when he turned around, Ireland just _had_ to be there, staring at him. Again, wonderful. Prussia sighed and grumbled an apology, even though he knew that he and Ireland couldn't talk to or understand each other.  
The latter of that statement, he then found, turned out to be wrong. Ireland sighed and shrugged, his very pale blue eyes flashing with some sort of pity. Combined, it was a bit like he was saying ' _well, what can you do about it, huh?'_ to which Prussia huffed and looked away, responding in his own silent message: ' _Not like I care, really.'_ The Prussian then felt bile rise in his throat again, but now that he knew he wasn't alone, he suppressed it almost desperately, a shiver going down his spine at the horrible taste it left in his mouth.  
Ireland noticed, one corner of his lips twisting into a smirk. Then he held up one hand to Prussia in a gesture to tell him to wait there, and curious, the Prussian watched as the Irishman walked over to a tree and broke off a low-hanging stick. He then walked around, only to stop at a bare patch of sandy ground, and then gestured to Prussia to come join him there. He was already scribbling in the sand with his stick by the time Prussia got there, confused and curious what Ireland wanted. Much to his surprise, Prussia noticed it was a quick sketch of Europe that the old country had drawn there. Then, Ireland drew arrows pointing at Prussia on the map, coming from Austria, Russia, France, Sweden... all his currently known enemies in the upcoming war. Once he was done sketching this, Ireland looked at Prussia with an intense blue stare, and the albino understood the question he was asking: ' _They're the reason for this, aren't they?'_  
Prussia just nodded with an angry huff, scowling as he looked at the little map.  
Then Ireland chuckled softly, and shook his head. Silent, the old kingdom erased all of Europe from the little map he had drawn, all except Prussia and the British Isles. Then he smirked as he looked at Prussia once again, giving him a thumbs up as if to say ' _no worries, you guys will win!'_  
Prussia only stared for a moment, astonished at the fact that he was actually having a conversation without words here, then laughed, and Ireland soon joined in.  
Then a voice called from a little further away, which Prussia recognised as Scotland _. "Cearul!"_ Ireland looked up at this, and Prussia narrowed his eyes at the older country. Somehow, that reaction gave him an idea what this strange word might mean. Scotland approached them with a grin on his face, and he nudged his older brother once he reached them. " _Well, brother?_ " he asked Ireland in English. " _What were the two of you laughing about?_ "  
Ireland shrugged. " _We were just... talking, I suppose._ "  
Scotland only gave him a weird stare, and meanwhile Prussia was trying to figure out what was being said, but it was hard. Then the Scot looked down at Ireland's messy drawing, and laughed too. " _Hey now, Cearul!_ " he snickered. " _Don't go making battle plans without us -you're not even in this war!_ "  
There it was again, that strange word. And now Prussia was almost certain of what it meant. He cleared his throat to get the two older kingdoms' attention, then nodded to Ireland. "Cearul?" he asked, nearly twisting his tongue over the pronunciation. "That's... your name?"  
Ireland blinked, understanding yet not understanding. " _Dai... dei-nuh..._ " Prussia now realised he was trying to copy what the young country had said. " _Deine Nah-muh?_ Oh!" Then it seemed to dawn on him, and he smiled. " _You mean, name? Yes!_ "  
What he said sounded similar enough to Prussia's question, and in turn, Prussia figured he must've guessed right, and now he knew both 'name' and 'yes' in English. So far a worthless start, but still a start. Happy about this progress, Prussia gestured to himself now. "Well, my human name is Gilbert." When Ireland seemed a little lost hearing a full sentence like this, he repeated only his name, and the old kingdom then seemed to understand.  
" _In English_ ," he then said, " _you're called Prussia._ "  
Prussia narrowed his eyes at this, trying to figure out what that meant. But then he understood. "Well, in my own language," he then replied, grinning, "my name's _Preussen,_ and you're _Irland._ "  
" _Eire, in Irish,_ " Ireland answered, shrugging. " _But 'Ireland' is fine with me, I guess._ "  
Now, Prussia looked to Scotland for a translation -this sentence had been too long to figure out. But the Scot shook his head and laughed, just leaving the two to it. They were doing just fine on their own, he told them in both French and English, they didn't need his help to understand each other.

* * *

 _25 January 1756_

 _Well, that week was over quickly._  
 _It's certainly good to know that not everybody hates me. The British Isles all seem nice enough, and I can get along with all of them just fine._  
 _Because of the communication issues between me and Wales (there's only so much we know how to say in Latin, after all) it has been decided that Scotland will be joining my troops here on the mainland as soon as a war breaks out, and Wales and England will take care of the colonies together. A fine deal, the way I see it. Scotland seems strong and reliable, and easy to get along with._  
 _There is something about those four, though... I envy them. They all can't stand each other, that much is clear, but at the same time they have this... closeness. Despite how much they seem to dislike one another, there is this unconditional love between them, clear as day. Frankly, I think they don't see it themselves, but it's there. I wish my relationship with my family was as good..._  
 _Well, if 'good' is how you can describe it. They're... unique._  
 _Well, I think I'm lucky to have them as my allies, just as they're lucky to have allied themselves with the Awesome Me -the Legendary Black Eagle!_

Prussia had just finished writing when there was a knock on his door, and Fritz came in quietly. The human looked at his kingdom in silence for a moment, then sighed, a tiny smile playing at his lips. "I'm glad that you seem to have gotten a little happier again over the past week," he told Prussia softly, though there was a certain carefulness to his voice that told Prussia that his king wasn't just here to tell him that. And just seconds later, there it was: the man took a deep breath and continued almost tentatively. "You've seen now that not the whole world is against you, haven't you?"  
Prussia got to his feet and walked over to stand in front of Fritz, but the latter went on without giving Prussia a chance to respond yet. "I hope you've decided not to follow up on your, er... threats of a few years back, after all?" This was a topic that only rarely came up, and Prussia usually dismissed it and wouldn't give any clear answers. But this time, his friend's hopefulness stung him like needles; he wanted to, but he just couldn't make any such promises.  
So he shook his head slowly. "No, Fritz," he answered, completely calm and in a gentle voice despite what he was about to say. "Some things go on for too long for me to be able to forgive and forget. There is a point where I'll have to stand up for myself and say that enough is enough, and I won't take this any longer." Disappointment lay clear in Fritz's eyes, but he didn't say anything. Feeling sorry for what he was doing and saying, Prussia grabbed his dearest friend's face in both hands and held him gently, staring him in the eyes. He knew he was hurting Fritz with this, but there was no way the kingdom could lie about this, not to him. "After they've all hurt me for so long," Prussia went on softly, almost in a whisper. "After all the pain I went through because of them, don't you think they deserve to know what real pain is like? Don't you think it is my right to take revenge on them all?" Fritz didn't respond now, so Prussia held him in a careful embrace instead, whispering now. "I vowed that I would unleash Hell upon Europe," he said quietly. "And I swear to you, Fritz, that day _will_ come. But don't worry, I'll make sure you won't be around to witness it." The king slightly tensed up at this, and Prussia suddenly realised those words might've sounded like he was implying something else, and he quickly corrected himself: "I have patience, Fritz. I know how much it would pain you to see me like that, so for as long as you live, I'll play nice like a good little kingdom. But you and I both know that you won't be in this world forever. I promise you, Fritz, when the day comes that I take my revenge on this world, you'll be long gone." He then turned his head a little and placed a very soft, light kiss on Fritz's cheek, adding under his breath. "I swear, Fritz, I won't let you see me like that."  
In all that time, Fritz hadn't moved a muscle, and he still stood like a statue for moments after Prussia had made his promise like that. When he moved again, it was to sigh and return the embrace, but without any warmth behind it. "You know how I feel about this, Prussia," he said softly, sounding saddened but thankfully not much so. "But even if I were there to do so, I wouldn't try to stop you; I know what it's like to do bad things because you feel you need to. But, Prussia, trust me... This isn't necessary."  
Now, Prussia let go and took a step back, staring at his friend with an even, calm gaze. "I'll decide for myself what I deem necessary," he replied softly, a cold edge to his voice now. "You think you had a rough childhood, Fritz? A tough life so far? You've only lived for 44 years so far, you know." He fell silent for a moment, averting his gaze now and narrowing his eyes, the now familiar cold creeping back into his heart. "Try 564 of them, being shunned by people, hated, distrusted and despised. Yes, there are good moments, and there are people who care about me... but everyone who does so is dead or dying in the forseeable future. Fritz, you know how much you mean to me, and it is for that reason that it hurts me so much to know that you won't last many more decades... I wish I could keep you with me forever, you're that dear to me." He sighed, and it was almost like his breath was as cold as his chest now felt when he felt the air pass over his lips like that. "Fritz, trust me, no amount of suffering in a human life can compare to _centuries_ of torment. You couldn't possibly imagine what it's like to me -you just honestly can't. Eternity is simply an alien concept to humans because you do not posess it. A mortal like you cannot possibly conceive of the true meaning of immortality, Fritz, it's just not part of your nature to be able to understand, and I get that." He clenched his hands into fists now, the muscles around his jaws tightening as he narrowed his eyes at the human in anger. "But because of that, don't you dare tell me how I should feel or what I should think! You cannot even _imagine_ what my life has been like, so just...!" Seeing the hurt in Fritz's eyes, Prussia stopped himself now, trailing off. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and speak more softly and calmly again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. But Fritz, you know the Awesome Me always keeps his promises, right?"  
After a moment of hesitation, Fritz nodded solemnly, silent. Disappointment and pain still lay clear in every inch of his face, but Prussia didn't pay any mind anymore. He just wouldn't lie to Fritz, he would never.  
Certainly not about this. "Then trust me when I say, I won't let you witness me unleashing the demon everyone claims is inside of me -the one they _made_ inside of me," he finished in a slow, calm manner, hoping to let his voice be soothing where his words would merely have the opposite effect. "But I will also make them all pay for what they've done to me all this time, everyone who has ever hurt me like this. Cross my heart and hope to die, Fritz, I will. I have to."  
And surely it would be completely justified when he did so? If he were God, he would've struck down all the people who tormented an innocent soul like this and made said soul rot all the way to its very core out of bitterness long ago. That, or he would've spared that person the torment and pain, one way or the other. But clearly God had decided to let Prussia take fate into his own hands. Because of that, surely anything Prussia would do would be justified? Even the Holy Bible states that in certain situations, it was justified to respond with equal retribution. An eye for an eye, as they said. There were no laws against it.

But before he could do that, he would have to deal with the matters at hand.  
First and foremost, Prussia would have to survive the upcoming war.

* * *

 **I needed to add that scene with Ireland. I just had to. Because I figured that, with the one cameo he's made a couple chapters back and now with his little outburst here, people could take him the wrong way if they haven't read Rising or Trouble... he's a sweetheart, I swear! And a rebellious asshole. And a perpetual liar. But a caring sweetheart who wouldn't hurt a fly if he could help it. Unless that fly is England. Then he might.**

 **Also, TheOldKaiser, how did you guess he was going to get the nickname 'Black Eagle' in this chapter? XD I had just written that scene a day before you wrote that review... that's awesome!**

 **Ah, Wales... Prussia is almost as tall as you are by now and he will be taller in a century or so. Calling him 'pipsqueak' isn't really a good idea anymore. I kind of surprised myself with that little reunion. Going by their first meeting, I thought they would fight again, but... I didn't want any fights in this, and this kind of reunion seemed the second most likely, for some reason.**

 **Oh well, as you could all probably guess... next chapter is the start of the Seven Years' War. *insert grin here*  
I hope you liked the chapter!**


	40. Chapter 40

**As per usual, first of all, a thank-you to Kalidoscope666 and TheWinchesterPony for the follows and favourite, and to Abc, TheBlueAcid, TheOldKaiser and pinkdoughnuts and MissiriKoharehn for the reviews! Missirikoharehn, that was pretty dark indeed... Eh... I wouldn't worry about Prussia _too_ much. He's depressed now, obviously, but he will get out of it eventually.**

 **Also, TheBlueAcid, I forgot to respond to your comment/question about Brandenburg's haircolour in the previous chapter, so here goes: as far as I've found by reading back here and there, she was only described as being dark blond in the first chapter she appeared in. Reason I changed it to brown was because I drew her for the first time not long after, didn't have any decent pencil to make her blond, made her hair a light brown shade instead and fell in love with it. So I suppose her hair is like my little sister's: it was a darker shade of blond when she was younger, but as she grew up it darkened and it's now brown. Not an uncommon thing actually, haircolour tends to change during childhood.**

 **So yeah, it was intentional XD (I just realised that I managed to write such a long piece about someone's _haircolour_ , of all things!)**

 **Meh, I hope you'll like this chapter! Once again, I tried to mix in some humour with the angst (please forgive Scotland, he didn't mean to.)**

* * *

 _14 October 1756_

 _The Siege of Pirna ended today, and Saxony surrendered to us._  
 _With Saxony now occupied by us, we plan to move to Bohemia and secure a place to stay the winter there. I feel bad about doing this -Saxony was neutral! I mean, yes, he's in league with Austria, but he wasn't attacking me yet. And Saxony isn't among the people I want to take revenge on. He has hurt me several times, but he's my brother, and one of the few family members I have who doesn't treat me like dirt. Or a demon. And that while he was there when I first declared I would take revenge on them all._  
 _Now he certainly hates me._

 _Fritz, you're my awesome general and an even more awesome king, but... why did we have to attack Saxony?_

 _P.S. Wow, even more awesome... Europe hates me for doing this._  
 _But of course, it's all right for you all to threaten me, isn't it? And then when you've got me cornered and I lash out like any cornered animal would, you're outraged at my 'cruel' tactics!_  
 _Go to Hell already, all of you. I'll be waiting for you there._

A tiny drop of liquid fell onto the paper in Prussia's journal, rendering a letter illegible. Quickly Prussia drew the back of his glove-clad hand over his eyes, catching any stray tear before that too would fall and ruin his journal further. He let out a shaky sigh, shoved his journal aside to let the ink dry, then leaned over the desk he was using. It was Saxony's, as he was in his brother's home in Dresden, though Saxony himself wasn't there. The Saxon lived on his own, not with his leader, and Prussia liked the peace and quiet of his home so much that he decided he would find a place for himself too once Fritz died. The human was so dear to him, he probably would be disappointed with his successor anyway. Maybe it would be better to be on his own by then.  
 _Because I'm not 'on my own' yet now,_ he thought bitterly, wiping away another tear before it left his eye. Tenacious little buggers. _Of course I'm not... No, no, Prussia isn't lonely at all, he's too awesome for that._ That's probably what everyone else thought, anyway. They probably all thought that he had no feelings, no remorse, no heart in the first place.  
But he did, and the war had only just started and already had he broken his own heart by fighting the wrong person. It was Austria he wanted to hurt, and Hungary and France, because they had all betrayed him in their own way.  
The other countries were right to be angry at him for this.  
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Prussia sat bolt upright, clenching his jaws and rubbing his eyes and cheekbones once again to get rid of any tears. Then he cleared his throat, and with a steady voice he called to the person to come in.  
Much to his surprise, Scotland stood in the doorway, mumbling a soft greeting as he seemed to realise something was off about Prussia just then. The Prussian quickly grinned his trademark grin, putting his mask back on in a heartbeat. No way would he show any sign of weakness, to allies or enemies, especially so early on in the game. Of course, he had been expecting Scotland, actually; now that the war had begun, Britain had sent him troops and funds to aid him. Despite the war, he felt a lot better than he had because of those funds: 670,000 pounds was a lot of money.  
"Hey laddie," the Scot just greeted him when he saw Prussia smile, smiling back. But Prussia could see that the older kingdom knew very well that Prussia's smile was a fake one, though he didn't comment on it. "Sorry, kid, but we couldn't persuade the Dutch Republic to support you as well."  
Prussia nodded and gestured to a stack of papers on the desk. "I know, I just got the letter yesterday. No problem, you've shipped a lot of supplies and money already. Thanks for that." He then turned back and quickly glanced at his journal, checking if the ink was dry then closing it and shoving it under a pile of papers. There was no need for Scotland to look at it, even if he didn't know any German and couldn't read it.  
The old kingdom just looked confused at this. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he asked: "What was that?"  
"Just reports," Prussia answered dismissively. "None of your concern." He then turned around to face Scotland again and sighed. The kingdom didn't look like he was doing so well. "I also read a report on your progress in the colonies... not going so well, is it?"  
The Scot shook his head and picked a place to sit, too, throwing off his coat. "No, not exactly. But the war has only just started, so it can turn around yet, right? I'm still certain that our little alliance will win this war. You're protecting Hanover from France, I hope?" Prussia nodded briskly. "Good, then you're at least keeping your end of the bargain, too. Some good news I can write to my wee brothers, then." He stretched his back a bit, and Prussia thought he could hear the joints of both his shoulders pop as he did so, and cringed at the sound. His shoulders must've been really stiff for them to make such noise.  
"Have you been sleeping on rocks last night or something?" he asked the older kingdom, frowning slightly.  
Scotland only laughed. "No, but it sure as Hell feels like it! But say," he then added, looking serious all of a sudden as he stared at his young ally. "Saxony is your brother, isn't he? Is that why you look so down about this? You just won one part of your war, you know."  
Prussia was silent for a moment, fumbling with the edges of his sleeves and averting his gaze. "Yeah, well... Maybe a bit." He sighed then, closing his eyes. "Fritz and the other generals assured me that this was the best way to start, and I know they're right, but still... I wish I didn't have to attack my _neutral_ brother." Then he looked up again, his red gaze hardening again. "But I'm awesome as Hell, of course, so it won't keep me down for long. Especially when I get to fight Austria's troops again. Do you know who's leading his army now that he's out of the game?"  
Scotland shook his head silently, then stared at Prussia a moment longer as if he were inspecting him. But after a few heartbeats he turned away and grabbed something from the pockets of his coat that lay on the floor: a cigar and a matchbox. "Mind if I-?" he began asking, but Prussia shook his head before he even finished his question. Scotland just shrugged and lit the cigar, immediately making Prussia regret saying that he didn't mind it.  
"My God," he coughed, his eyes watering as he inhaled some of the smoke. "Talk about foul stench! How can you breathe that stuff?"  
The Scot shrugged again and breathed out a puff of smoke. "Well, it kind of numbs the mind and body a bit," he confessed before inhaling some more of the foul smelling stuff. "Which is why I usually only smoke during wars -so I don't have to worry as much. It's not like my mind isn't as clear as it normally is, but it's... soothing, in a way." He then grabbed another cigar from his pocket, looking at the albino kingdom, who was still trying not to cough. "Wanna try? Trust me, it will at least stop you from choking or getting nauseous from the smell o'mine."  
The Prussian frowned at this. "If it smells so bad," he choked out, "and if it can make you choke and become nauseous, then it can't be healthy." He covered his mouth and nose with one hand and wiped some tears from the corners of his eyes with the other. It really smelt horrible.  
Scotland laughed. "Yeah, it probably isn't! But hey, that's for the humans to worry about. But if you don't want it, then I'll just-" Prussia held up one hand before the Scot was finished talking, and with a grin, the older kingdom tossed it over his way, followed by the matchbox.  
 _If it can stop me from choking on his damn smoke,_ he thought as he lit the thing and stared at it for a few seconds, _I'd do_ _anything for that!_ Though he had to admit, 'numbing the mind' was probably highest on his list to just follow Scotland's undoubtedly bad example right now. _Oh, whatever. To Hell with it!_ he thought before just sticking the thing between his lips and sucking in some of the smoke. It only made him cough more.  
"Oi, kid, go easy on it," Scotland scolded him, sounding amused. "Be gentle on your lungs, will you? It's hot, smoky air, you don't just breathe it in like it's a nice summer breeze!"  
"No, I can tell," Prussia choked out, one hand on his chest, which felt like it was on fire. "You must be insane to do this regularly. Do you think humans even realise how bad it is?"He could already feel his body working to get rid of this poison, so it must be as unhealthy as he had predicted.  
Once again Scotland shrugged and chuckled. "Probably not; I think they're not as much in tune with their bodies as we are. Ah, let 'em find out in their own time, eh?" He snickered as he saw Prussia stare at his own cigar like it was the devil, then held up his hand. "Here, toss. I don't mind getting a wee burn if I catch it the wrong way, so it's fine."  
But then Prussia stared at him like he was even more insane than before, and indignantly stuck it back between his lips. "Absolutely not," he muttered from behind clenched teeth. "I'm awesome, do you really think someone as awesome as me can't handle this stuff? And if it has the effects you say it does, I'm not going to let it go that easily!"  
Scotland watched him as he inhaled again then coughed again, but he eventually got the hang of it, and then the Scot sighed. "Oh, good," he mumbled half to himself. "It seems I just poisoned another young mind into developing bad habits."  
"So you did, idiot."

* * *

The year passed and left Prussia with plenty of victories over his enemies. But despite these victories, he had a harder time in the new year. For the very first time, he was struggling to win battles against Austrian troops. Still, Austria was his only active enemy so far.  
They had managed to lay siege on Prague and defeat the Austrian army there, but now the Austrian Marshal Daun was moving their way to fight them again. With a force of 32,000 men, Prussia and King Frederick moved to stop him from reaching Prague, only to be met by an army nearly twice the size of their own. And not only that; it seemed Austria's stand-in was also there, commanding the Austrian troops alongside the human Marshal.  
"Do we know who we're facing yet or what?" Prussia grumbled angrily to some of his people which he had sent to spy on the Austrian troops. But the soldiers shook their heads and apologised; they hadn't been able to get close enough to find out. Prussia gritted his teeth and stabbed his sword into the ground in frustration. He wanted to know who to look out for -maybe Austria had gotten a family member to do his work for him, or maybe it was a human after all. Whoever it was, Prussia wanted to _know_ , and he was beyond frustrated that he didn't.  
Pissed off that he still had no idea who or what he might face out there, he turned back to Fritz, who was just done explaining his plan to some of his soldiers, who then nodded and spread the word to others. The king turned to Prussia, looking worried. But then he smiled and patted Prussia on the head. "No worries," he said reassuringly. "How many battles have we lost so far?"  
"None."  
"Exactly. You'll be fine at the end of the day, Prussia, I swear." The human sighed, looking out over his army. "I may not be as awesome as you, Prussia, but I also keep my promises. Now go join the right wing, and I'll head left."  
Silent, Prussia nodded, watching his friend go. Why didn't they talk more than this now? Was Fritz that worried about this battle? With a sigh, he headed to the right wing of his troops, explaining the plan to his soldiers then speaking words of encouragement. Then he led them into battle.

But nothing went according to plan that day: the Prussian main troops attacked too soon, provoked by their enemies, and soon Prussia found his men scattered and facing off with superior forces everywhere he went. The Austrian army was more organised than it had been in the two previous Silesian Wars. _Who is in command here?_ he thought frantically, looking around in a desperate search for Austria's stand-in general. _Damn this all, I need to find him!_ If he could defeat the country who was behind this, maybe he would have a chance; most armies backed off when their country was defeated in battle, though it didn't necessarily end the battle in all cases. Still, as he felt the pain and weakness in his limbs increasing quickly, he knew it might be his only chance.  
Much to his dismay, he felt a sword prick between his shoulders just minutes later, and he stood rigid. "Looking for me?" came a woman's voice, one that was much too familiar to him, achingly so. Especially now.  
Turning around, he found himself staring Hungary in the eyes. She was dressed like any Austrian general, a rifle tied to her back and a sword in her right hand. He took a step back, nearly stumbling as he felt a sharp pain in his left leg -the losses in this battle were beginning to affect him even more intensely already.  
Hungary stared at him and huffed. "What's the matter, Gil?" she taunted him. "Too scared to fight me?" He didn't answer, and she seemed to take that as an insult. "Well, come on now. Cat got your tongue? Say something!"  
A handfull of soldiers then walked up behind Hungary, and Prussia noticed a couple of his own soldiers approaching him now too. "Sir!" one of them said to him in a distressed voice. "What's a woman doing here? Is she- _shit_. She's Hungary, isn't she?" Prussia nodded, staring at his old and dear friend wide-eyed, remaining silent. "We'll help out here then," another of Prussia's soldiers then said determinedly, readying his sword.  
But Prussia knocked the weapon away angrily. "Don't you dare lay a hand on her!" he snapped, startling the human. "Don't even _think_ about meddling in this -this is between me and her." Turning back to look at Hungary, he added more softly: "And I'll do it without fighting her."  
At the same time, Hungary was telling her soldiers to stay out of it as well -they were only allowed to fight if she was already defeated, and she then assured them it wouldn't even get to that point. With a glance at Prussia's left leg, which he was putting less pressure on, she jeered: "Well, little boy? You going to fight me or what? Or does your poor little leg hurt too much?"  
Prussia gritted his teeth, his heart racing. This was his worst-case scenario right here. As much as he realised Hungary was his enemy, and a more ruthless one than Austria would've been and definitely not against hurting him, he wasn't sure if he could fight her. Tentatively he took a step closer, lowering his sword. "Why don't you just go home, Hungary?" he said, somewhere between taunting and pleading. "The battlefield is no place for girls."  
"Good thing I'm a woman, then," she retorted, lifting her sword threateningly. "Well, go on! Why won't you fight me?"  
He stood there, rigid and silent, then let out a shaky sigh. No, he just couldn't do this. He tried, he tried, but his body wouldn't cooperate with his mind now, but rather with his heart. _Damn it all,_ he cursed in silence, gripping his sword more tightly but still keeping it by his side. "There are very few people in this world that I simply cannot lift a sword against, Hungary," he confessed softly, forgetting for a moment that there were humans with them, too. "You're one of them. I'm not going to fight you like this."  
"Fine!" Hungary snapped, flinging her sword away, much to Prussia's surprise. "I can fight you just as well without a sword!" Then she took one quick step in his direction and at lightning speed she kicked him between the legs.  
Prussia doubled over in pain at this, dropped his sword and stumbled backwards. " _Fuck!_ " he choked out, unable to breathe for a moment.  
Hungary only laughed now, sounding both girlish and cruel at the same time. "Well, Gil, to be honest," she giggled then, "I think that might not be a good idea for you for the next few days." The older kingdom silenced herself then, stepping closer to Prussia once more and grabbing him by the hair, pulling his head up so that he was forced to look at her. "Almost like the good old days, isn't it, Gil?" she said then, grinnng. "I used to beat you all the time back then, too. Have you ever won a battle from me, actually? I don't remember if you have." Her expression grew colder, her gaze hardening. "Well, you certainly will not win this one!" She released his hair then, only to lash out with her knee against his chin, snapping his head back and making him fall.  
He lay on the ground only a second before he recovered himself, sitting up with a throbbing chin and pain pulsing in his leg -he was beginning to get worried about that by now, and hoped Hungary wouldn't take advantage of the pain she knew he felt. "Sir!" one of the Prussian soldiers gasped, and another was already aiming a gun at Hungary.  
" _Don't you dare!_ " Prussia yelled at him, his voice hoarse but his eyes shooting fire as he looked at the soldier who now put his weapon away again, staring at his kingdom indignantly. Prussia didn't care how his soldiers felt at this moment, he just _couldn't_ fight Hungary, though he was beginning to feel tempted to do so by now. "I already said, if you lay so much as a finger on her-!"  
"Oh, how sweet," Hungary interrupted him bluntly, looking at him with a disgusted stare. "Don't want these bad men to hurt your dear old friend? Well, wake up, Prussia! We're not exactly _friends_ anymore, are we?!" She lashed out with her foot again, kicking him in the stomach this time, which made him double over and whimper in pain once again. "Get up, you damn asshole, and fight already!"  
Now, Prussia struggled to his feet, sending another jolt of pain through his leg, but he managed to stay on his feet now. Nearly everything about his body hurt now, and he gritted his teeth, spitting out some blood that had dripped from his split lip into his mouth. "You damn bitch," he cursed at her under his breath, glaring murderously at her. "Those were some dirty tricks there!"  
Hungary shrugged. "So what? You seem to be very familiar with them yourself, too!" Then she moved to punch him, but Prussia caught her fist and clenched it tightly in his hand. Once, their hands had been about the same size and this would've been impossible, but now, in this fight, Prussia's hand completely enveloped Hungary's small, slender fist. And so he squeezed it with all the strength he had, until he felt bone snap and crunch between his fingers and Hungary let out a cry of pain. Then he released her again, watching her stumble back and look at her broken hand with almost glassy eyes.  
"There's no way you're stronger than me, Hungary," he told her calmly, his own voice croaking with pain. "You just aren't. So stop it already."  
She snapped her head back up to stare at him, and if looks could kill he would already be buried by now. "I don't need to be _stronger!_ " she yelled at him, lashing out to punch him in the face with her other hand.  
Swiftly, Prussia stepped aside, only narrowly escaping her fist, then grabbed her stretched arm and pulled on it so that she fell against him with her back. Then he wrapped his arms around her, stopping her from moving her arms and also managing to keep her head still. "Hungary, _please!_ " he whispered sharply into her ear, pleading desperately. "I'm not going to attack you, I can't!" She struggled in his arms, and he held her closer, hoping to let her know that he wasn't just trying to restrain her -he was trying to embrace her. "We used to be such good friends," he pleaded with her. "What happened?"  
"You became a cruel monster," she retorted. "That's what happened!" Then she kicked against his left leg with full force, and the pain in sent through Prussia's leg was so intense it made him release her and collapse to the ground. Pain searing his leg, Prussia gritted his teeth and instinctively held it by the ankle and knee. He felt warm liquid seep through his fingers when he did this, and saw blood staining his clothes. The damage of this battle was now really showing.  
"Well," Hungary concluded, satisfied. "It seems you've lost the battle, Prussia; I would give up before they need to chop off that leg later on, if I were you." She bent down in front of him and grabbed him by the chin, staring him in the eyes with a cold green gaze. "Be glad that we used to be so close, Gilbert," she said in a soft voice. "It's the only thing that prevents me from killing you, after all you've done to Austria!" She stared at him a moment longer, her gaze piercing so deeply it cut right into his heart once again, then she let go of him and looked at the Prussian soldiers. "Well, I think Gil is lucky that you're all here," she said calmly. "It doesn't look like he's able to walk back on his own, now does it?" Then she and the Austrian soldiers left, leaving Prussia and his humans alone now.  
Feeling ashamed, Prussia let his soldiers help him back to his feet and support him until they reached the rest of their troops again; it appeared Fritz had called a retreat a little while earlier already.  
The king was severely distressed when he saw the state his kingdom was in: covered in bruises and with blood dripping from his lips, nose and most of all his left leg, which hung limply beside his right now as he hopped back with help from his soldiers. Fritz immediately let a medic come for Prussia, and as they waited the only things that came over his lips were apologies. Prussia told him it was all right, they couldn't win all the time after all, but he felt horrible if he had to be honest. He had lost thousands upon thousands of people today, and he felt tired and he was in pain. Not to mention how shaken he felt after the confrontation with Hungary, but he decided not to tell Fritz about that.  
Then the medic arrived, and taking even a single look at Prussia's leg, which was criss-crossed with deep, mangled cuts inflicted solely by the effects of this battle, she told him to give it a week of rest at the very least. He just sighed, gritting his teeth as the cuts were cleaned and stitched.  
Today's loss had certainly cut him deep.

* * *

By the end of the summer, Prussia found himself back in Berlin on his own. For the first time ever, Fritz was commanding their army without his kingdom at his side, after he had ordered Prussia to go home and rest; after the Battle of Kolin more losses had followed, and by now Sweden and Russia had joined the party as well, and Prussia was being attacked by four major powers of Europe at the same time. Russia was going after East Prussia, Sweden had decided to fight for Pomerania once again, France was fighting him and Austria's troops, under Hungary's firm command, had turned into formidable opponents.  
Right now he was so battered and bruised that Prussia didn't even feel bad about not being there to fight alongside his people. He knew about major battles days before he got letters of reports from Fritz and other generals and marshals. He felt them as they took place, and he always knew the outcome of them. Some he won, most he lost.  
Right now, Scotland was over for another visit. It had been nearly a year since he and Prussia had seen each other, but after hearing about the state his ally was in, the Scot had come as quickly as he could. He just quietly sat beside Prussia now, saying a few words of comfort to him as the young kingdom lay on his bed, clenching his teeth as his people fought again.  
Eventually Prussia got sick of it and turned to look at him through dull red eyes. "Could you please go to the kitchen?" he asked hoarsely, breathing deeply as he tried in vain to block out the pain that was continuously stabbing him. "There should be some whiskey there, or rum... something strong."  
"You sure?" the Scot just asked him softly, looking at him doubtfully. "I mean, I know better than anyone how tempting alcohol can be, trust me, but-"  
"It's a painkiller," Prussia just muttered through clenched jaws, his eyes shut tight again. "And it disinfects should I have any wounds opening up by the end of this. _Please._ " Scotland just nodded and got up, leaving quickly, and Prussia curled up the moment he was certain the Scot was gone. He was getting so tired of this. He didn't want this war to go on any longer. Fighting the four strongest countries in Europe practically on his own -it was insane. It was nearly impossible. By now he felt like this was an execution, a very slow one, and maybe it was. He was in so much pain nearly all the time now, he didn't mind if it killed him. If this was to continue on for a few years yet, he would rather just stop right away before it could get any worse.  
He didn't even bother to lay properly again when Scotland came back, holding a flask of rum. "You were right," the older kingdom sighed as he sat down beside Prussia again. "You've got some strong stuff down there."  
Prussia only nodded silently, struggling to sit up and taking the flask from Scotland with a trembling hand.  
"Now take it easy with that, all right, laddie?" Scotland told him gently, giving him a firm but careful pat on the shoulder as Prussia fumbled with the flask to open the blasted thing. "You don't want to waste- Now what did I just say to you?" he broke off, scolding the Prussian when the young kingdom chugged the alcoholic drink down like it were water.  
"Don't care," Prussia just choked out, gasping for breath before taking another swig of the rum. "Not right now, I don't. Damn it, this stuff is awesome..." He drank just a little more, then handed the flask back to Scotland and mumbled a soft thanks before rolling over onto his side and curling up again a little, back turned to Scotland.  
The old nation just sighed as he looked in the flask, which was empty now safe for a few drops. "Well, if that doesn't make you numb," he mumbled under his breath, putting the thing aside for now, "then I don't know what will. And now what if you get any open wounds, like you said? Laddie, you drank all of it."  
"I know..." Prussia sighed softly, closing his eyes. "That was my intention. You just wouldn't get any if I said it was only meant for drinking," he added with a smirk, and he just knew for a certainty that Scotland was smiling now, too.  
"You bloody git," the kingdom sighed, shaking his head and chuckling softly. "All right, deal with a hangover tomorrow, if that's what you want. Isn't that just as uncomfortable as this battle is now?"  
Prussia shook his head without any hesitation. "I would prefer a severe hangover over this any day," he just muttered, trying hard to relax his body so that he could sleep, another reason why he had decided to drink all that alcohol: maybe it would be enough to knock him out now. Then he looked over his shoulder and grinned at the Scot. "And besides, if I do get any wounds, you'd be nice enough to get another bottle, wouldn't you?"  
"And risk having it drunk by you again?" Scotland just chuckled, shaking his head. "Not in a million years, laddie. I already turned you into a smoker, I'm not letting you become an alcoholic on my watch, too!"  
Prussia huffed, grinning even wider. "You're such a hypocrit," he muttered, though he sounded closer to laughter than anger. "You're _both_ , damn you. Your entire family lives on alcohol more than any other liquid. And _I'm_ the one who's in constant pain now -at least I have a reason for it!"  
Scotland just chuckled and patted him on the head, and Prussia swatted his hand away angrily. "How's your leg doing, anyway?" he asked, deciding to switch the topic to something else than the bad habits Prussia had learned from him -unfortunately, he had managed to teach Prussia more of these unhealthy habits, smoking and drinking, than he had managed to teach him English. It had gotten to the point that Fritz spoke of their 'bad influence' rather than their 'ally' by now, and both Scotland and Prussia were well aware of it."I heard that one was in a pretty bad state after Kolin."  
"Sure was," Prussia sighed, sitting up now; the alcohol was beginning to work, he figured, because he wasn't in as much pain anymore as before. "Reduced to scars now, but still deep. I hope they'll fade more over time, because my leg's not a pretty sight as of yet. But what can you do about it, huh?" He grimaced and added under his breath: "I feel like _finally_ my poor... er... _vital regions_ , so to say, have healed after Hungary's assault, too." He saw Scotland stare at him after this, and he quickly looked away, feeling awkward. "What? That girl knows how to kick, by God it hurt." After this, the Scot burst out laughing, and Prussia felt his face become warm, and it was probably red as well. "It's _not_ funny, bastard!"  
"Oh, yes, it is!" Scotland only laughed in response, getting to his feet. "The Legendary Black Eagle, getting his ass kicked by a girl - _amongst other parts._ It's hilarious!"  
Once again, the Prussian huffed in anger, though he too was chuckling by now. "Yeah, right! Wait until it's your turn."  
Scotland left then, leaving Prussia alone once more, and the younger kingdom lay back down, closing his eyes. A few minutes from now, and the alcohol should be mixed into his blood enough to get him to sleep at least. He would worry about that hangover once morning came.

* * *

Everywhere around him, Prussia heard the clang of metal, gunfire, cannon blasts. He could _smell_ the blood of men as they were slaughtered like livestock. But he didn't see them. He was alone in a small room, locked up, unable to do anything but listen while his people were being killed. And he knew it were his people: he could feel the pain blazing through his limbs like fire, running through his veins, spreading through every inch of his body. He tried to stand, but he could hardly even sit up. Then, suddenly, all the pain in his body seemed to collect itself in one point, moving from his legs and arms and head to his chest, centered around his heart.  
He couldn't breathe anymore now, and fear began to envelop him. He had choked like this once before, and once had been enough.  
Out of nowhere, somebody grabbed his hand gently, the soft touch chasing away all his fear in a single painful heartbeat. Turning around now, he saw Brandenburg stand beside him, smiling warmly at him. But when she spoke, her voice sounded cold and mocking, and pain once again struck him like lightning. "Wake up, sleepyhead."  
With a start, Prussia opened his eyes and sat bolt upright, his skin dripping with cold sweat. Once again, it had been a nightmare that had woken him. Right? Because even now, sitting in the darkness of his room in Berlin, he felt someone holding his hand. Confused, he looked to his side.  
Only to see Hungary sitting on the edge of his bed, her hand on his, staring at him with a calm green gaze. Then a grin played on her lips, and she said in a hushed voice: "Well, there you are, finally. Took you long enough; you were tossing and turning for quite some time, you know."  
Startled, Prussia shoved out of her way, and as he moved, he suddenly felt the same stab of pain in his chest that he had felt in his dream. He winced, gritting his teeth, and Hungary only smiled.  
Leaning in closer to the younger kingdom, Hungary laid her hand on Prussia's bare chest, right over his heart, which was pounding painfully fast behind his ribs. "Does it hurt, Gil?" she asked him softly, her voice just barely betraying some sort of satisfaction. "But of course it does; we've lain siege on Berlin this night, after all."  
Shocked by this, Prussia grabbed her wrist, wanting to push her away, but he froze before he could even do so. Siege on Berlin... the enemy had reached his capital. Was this the end for him, then? Was Hungary here to kill him? If that was the case, then he knew he could still put up a decent fight despite the pain he was in, but for some reason he just wasn't sure if he wanted to at all.  
But Hungary was already explaining more to him now. "But don't you worry, we're not destroying your precious city _yet_ ," she said in a whisper, digging her nails into his chest. "Frederick has a chance to get his capital back in one piece if he pays us 200,000 thalers, simple as that." She then looked over her shoulder and gave a sharp nod, and only then did Prussia notice the two soldiers standing in the shadowed corners of his room opposite his bed. The two nodded back and started moving their way silently, and Hungary looked back at Prussia, grinning wider than before. "But for you," she continued in a sharp whisper. "For you, Gil, he will have to pay double that price." By then, the two soldiers stood on either side of Prussia's bed, each looking ready to grab their swords if necessary. Hungary then moved away, getting to her feet. "Taking you might even be easier than I thought it would be," she stated flatly, looking down at the Prussian. "Frankly, you look like you won't be putting up much of a resistance, if any at all. And if you do resist, I believe another kick downstairs should be sufficient to make you a little more... obedient."  
With a quick order from their country in Hungarian, the two soldiers bent down and hauled Prussia to his feet. And indeed, the kingdom did not resist. He only glared at Hungary, enraged. He knew she was right, and he wouldn't stand a chance if he tried to fight now; if it had been only Hungary, he might've won, but these were two well-trained and armed soldiers. And here he was, unarmed, just woken up, half naked and trembling in pain. He was still awesome, naturally, but even Prussia had to admit that it would not end well for him if he started to fight in this state. So he let himself be dragged along.

400,000 Thalers. More, even, if you combined his ransom with that for Berlin. Having to pay 600,000 thalers would be a serious blow for his already unsteady economy, which would in turn only worsen his condition. He trusted Fritz to find a way to get Berlin back without too much damage befalling the city and its citizens without having to pay that insane ransom.  
All Prussia needed to do, was to find a way to escape on his own now.

* * *

 **So, uhm, Hungary wasn't very kind in this chapter, I know. Mind you, she claims to hate Prussia in canon Hetalia and sometimes looks like she has... homicidal tendencies, almost, when she's near him. I won't be going that far in this story (my poor PruHun shipping heart couldn't take it if I did) but right now she has reason to be pissed. Nobody touches her Roddy and gets away with it.**

 **Also, I'm pretty sure people had no idea smoking was deadly back then. It was actually promoted as being healthy until a couple decades back. And though nations know better because they generally know their own body better than humans do, they also know that is cannot hurt them, so why not?  
As for the alcohol, well, Scotland probably didn't know that he was already dealing with a semi-alcoholic future-king-of-alcoholics anyway. I wonder who's the worst though, out of the four British Isles characters and Prussia and Germany (nope. Not 'five' British Isles because Northern Ireland is too young for alcohol.)**

 **So ehm, yeah. Scotland is kind and sweet and all, but he can be a bad influence at times, unintentionally as it may be.**

 **I hope you liked the chapter, and about the kinda-sorta cliffhanger, no worries: next chapter will probably be before the end of next week, I'm already halfway done or so. Thanks for reading, y'all!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Told you I'd be quick!**

 **Now, I'll apologise beforehand. I thought I'd mixed the previous chapter with enough humour to justify this... _this_... but you all seemed to think differently XD**

 **Thanks to pinkdoughnuts, Abc, TheBlueAcid and TheOldKaiser for reviewing again!  
TheOldKaiser, sorry that I forgot to reply in the last chapter! Hm... not sure yet. I plan to have the Fritz Arc end by chapter 45 at the latest, and it won't be long after that. Before chapter 50. And I don't want this story to be any longer than 60 chapters at most.**

 **Well, uhm... I hope you'll like this chapter...? Heh heh...**

* * *

Barely more than an hour after Prussia had been taken prisoner by Hungary and her soldiers, he sat handcuffed in the camp they'd set up just outside the city walls. Shivering with cold, he was staring at Hungary as she discussed something with a human, a general, he figured. The Prussian was being guarded by three men, none of them paying any attention to the country's shivering. He hadn't been given the time to at least grab a shirt, no one had given him anything to cover up his upper body with, and he sat too far from the fire the soldiers had made to benefit from its heat. At this rate he would catch pneumonia before the sun came up, it was _October_ , for Heaven's sake.  
Hungary then finished her conversation with the human and walked back to Prussia, halting a few feet in front of him. She grinned mockingly, jeering: "Well, Gil? Feeling comfortable, I hope?"  
Prussia smirked back at her. "Couldn't be better," he muttered sarcastically, gritting his teeth as he spoke. "Though, since you asked, I would appreciate being a bit closer to the fire, or at least having something to cover up with. I'm freezing to death here, but otherwise perfectly comfortable, thank you."  
Hungary huffed, narrowing her green eyes at him. "This is the best spot to guard you from, so moving you is a no-go, sorry," she answered indifferently. Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Also, giving you a blanket or something would be an act of _kindness_ , and now why would I do that, huh?" She chuckled for a moment, grinning wider yet. "I say you're just fine like this."  
Now, Prussia couldn't help but laugh, and he noticed his sudden outburst startled one of the guards, which was only more satisfactory. "Oh, I see!" he laughed at Hungary, grinning arrogantly and his red eyes twinkling with mischief and joy despite his situation. "If that's the case, you could've just said so sooner," he added once he'd stopped laughing, shifting a bit to display his well-muscled chest a bit more, then winked playfully at her. "Like what you see, then?"  
Hungary grimaced at this, which only made him snicker softly. But her next comment silenced him and wiped the grin off his face in a heartbeat. "I might have," she answered calmly, her voice level, "if you hadn't been such a skinny snowflake."  
"Hey!" he exclaimed at this, getting angry again. "It's called _albinism_ and I was _born with it_ , a fact you've known for the past millenium-and-a-bit!" Hungary had never commented on his albinism before, except when they'd first met and she had called him 'weird but kind of cool'. He knew she was only doing so now to get him angry, and she had succeeded. He just wasn't the type who could stay silent even when people were deliberately riling him up, especially when his albinism was the topic of their taunts. He just huffed then and looked away, adding more calmly: "And I would hardly call this skinny, thank you very much."  
"Well, all right," Hungary then sighed, inspecting him for a brief moment with the faintest admiration Prussia had ever seen flashing in her eyes -but he liked it nonetheless. "I have to give it to you, you do have a fine-looking chest - _shame_ about the scars, really- and some decent muscles." She sounded both genuine and mocking, a strange combination, and Prussia decided to focus on the former and ignore the latter.  
Prussia just smirked once again and dipped his head in a small, grateful bow. "Glad you're acknowledging my awesomeness now, much appre-"  
"But underneath those," Hungary went on, bluntly interrupting him, a bored expression on her face by now. "I can count your ribs, you know. You should eat more, it would certainly do you good -health _and_ looks." She then turned to one of the three guards and said something to him. Prussia knew just about enough Hungarian to figure out that she was telling the soldier to 'get the man a coat', after which the human nodded and went off quickly.  
Grateful as he was to get something against the cold now, _finally_ , Prussia got even more pissed at her comment just now. "Well, I would," he muttered in response, not caring whether or not Hungary could even hear him. "But unfortunately, _someone_ is waging war against me, so we don't have much to eat right now." But Hungary had already turned around and was walking away now, without even sparing him one more glance. Prussia just glared at her briefly, then turned around and sat with his back to the two soldiers, waiting patiently for that coat.  
"So you're really Prussia?" one of the two soldiers then asked him. When Prussia didn't answer, the man snorted. "You look pretty damn white for a _Black_ Eagle."  
Prussia just sighed and grumbled a soft response. "Once again, it's called _albinism._ You should read about it sometime." Then he glanced at the man over his shoulder, narrowing his red eyes in contempt. " _If_ you can read, that is."  
The man angrily gritted his teeth for a moment, then snapped: "Well, you're definitely not what I imagined when I heard about the 'Black Eagle that brings death and destruction upon all who oppose him'."  
Prussia let out a short, hollow laughter. "Oh, is that what everyone says about me these days? How creative." He snorted then, turning back to stare ahead of him. These humans were the last people he wanted to see right now, second maybe only to Hungary. "I'll have you know, _you're_ the ones who started the Second Silesian War, and this one."  
"Says the man who was in fact the _first_ to attack."  
For a moment, Prussia closed his eyes, fighting to stay calm now. "I was under threat of four major powers at the same time," he answered softly. "I merely acted like any cornered animal would - _by lashing out._ "  
Now, the human laughed. "My, what an accurate description of yourself!" he taunted the kingdom. "An animal indeed, all those scars you have there prove as much."  
For some reason, those words stung Prussia. He had never been bothered by his scars, except maybe the old burns, but this was the second time this evening that someone had commented on them, and without even realising it at first, he curled up a bit in an attempt to hide at least a few of the countless lines marring his skin. Then when he got a military coat thrown over his shoulder, he wasted not a second to put it on, wrapping it tightly around his shoulders.  
This was going to be a very long night.

* * *

In the end, the siege lasted only a single night, and when Hungary and her troops retreated from Berlin after receiving word of King Frederick marching their way with a greatly superior force, she grudgingly let Prussia go as well. He only told her to piss off and stay away from Berlin in the future. By the end of the year, after a few victories, Prussia began to feel better again, and Fritz finally allowed him back to the battlefields. His role was an inactive one at first, but Prussia refused to be sent away once again and simply continued fighting, training and making strategies despite the losses he suffered in the year after. 1758 came and passed, still leaving the war indecisive, still active, still bloody.  
But despite all his losses over the years so far, Prussia hadn't felt as horrible yet as he did on 12 August 1759, during and after a battle near Kunersdorf, when he faced a combined army of Russian and Austrian troops.  
Prussia had launched an attack on the Russian troops first, and the attack ended in victory for him. Now, Fritz was discussing what to do from here onward with his generals, amongst which his brother, and Prussia himself.  
"We have won this battle," Prince Henry reasoned with his elder brother. "It doesn't seem as if the remaining enemy troops will attack if we simply leave them be now. There's no need to attack again."  
Another general nodded, adding: "Your Majesty, it's hot and our men do not fare well in this heat; let's take this victory, minor or not." He looked like he wanted to say more, but Fritz was already gesturing for him to be silent now.  
The king sighed, pondering for a moment. Then he looked each of his generals in the eyes for a few seconds each. "Very well, I shall take this into consideration. However," he added then, looking at Prussia now, slight worry flashing in his eyes. "We have lost too many battles already. We all have living, walking proof here that the condition of our kingdom is declining. We need more than _minor_ victories if we want to regain our strength as a kingdom." He paused for a moment, looking desperate as he inspected Prussia; the young kingdom had indeed been on the decline for the duration of the war so far, and it was visible now. Back when Hungary had called Prussia skinny-looking, it had been a complete exaggeration. It wouldn't be anymore now. His hair was more disheveled than ever, he had dark lines under his eyes from lack of sleep, random bruises and cuts kept appearing on his body... His enemies were in a pinch too, but so far this war was a disaster for Prussia like none before. So Fritz left the decision to Prussia now. "Do you feel fit to fight again?"  
Prussia hesitated, but only for a moment. "I'm tired," he admitted with a sigh. "We all are. But we're _Prussians_ , and we don't back down. We won now, we may win again. Whatever you think is best, Fritz, you've never let me down before."  
The human looked at his old friend for a moment longer, blinked gratefully, then nodded. "If that's your decision." He then turned back to his generals, declaring they would head out for battle again soon.

When the Austrian cavalry joined their Russian allies, things became harder for Prussia's army. But with King Frederick's strong command, everything was still going well so far. Until early in the evening, when the Prussian cavalry attacked Russian artillery forces.  
Prussia was among his soldiers there, the world whirling around him. Just the fact that he was this dizzy told him this attack was going disastrously bad for his army, if the schreeches of horses and screams of soldiers around him hadn't told him as much yet. It was like the nightmares he had so vividly nearly every night now: the sound of gunfire all around him, loud as explosions, men bleeding, men dying, his strength fading quickly as his soldiers' numbers dwindled rapidly.  
He didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't leave his men to be slaughtered here, but only Fritz could call for a retreat, and Prussia couldn't find him anywhere in the midst of this deadly chaos. He couldn't fight anymore in this state, either. He knew that he was done for, and the thought scared him to death. He had never felt like this before, especially in the middle of a battle.  
He shook his head to clear his mind, then sped off, forcing his horse to maneuver through the battlefield. He was looking around frantically to try and find Fritz now, but to make his search even harder, his sight was starting to blur ever so slightly. _By God,_ he thought, feeling bile rise in his throat, which tasted eerily metallic. _This is Hell. It must be._ He clasped his hand over his mouth when he started coughing harshly, then when he could finally breathe again he glanced at it for a moment; blood soaked his black glove, dripping from his fingers, and he could taste nothing but that terrifying metallicness in his mouth. No bullets had struck him, no swords had cut him, but he was developing what would be grave injuries from the inside out if this were to continue any longer. Desperate now, he gave his horse the signal to continue carrying him through the field of corpses in his search for his king.  
By the time he found him, he could barely see straight and had to fight harder to stay on his horse than he'd had to fight the battle earlier that day. A wound had opened up in his side, and he held the cut tightly in his right hand to slow the bleeding while clutching the reins on his horse with his left as if his life depended on it. _We need to retreat,_ was all he could think now. _We're being slaughtered like cattle. We need to retreat, now, now, NOW!_ "Fritz!" he called on top his voice, but it still came out too feeble to his liking.  
The king heard him, and looked to his side at Prussia. For a moment he looked shocked. The next moment, a bullet hit him squarely in the chest, and he fell off his horse.  
Prussia's heart seemed to stop in that same instant, terror filling his entire being. " _FRITZ!_ " he shrieked, his voice cracking on the word. Fritz couldn't be dead, he couldn't! But a heartbeat later, the dizziness overwhelmed Prussia completely, his vision turning black for a moment. He could feel himself slide off his horse and hit the ground with a thud. His vision flickered back for just a split second, but that split second was enough for him to see Fritz sit upright again, though with one hand on his chest and clearly in pain. But he was alive.  
 _Thank God..._

* * *

Later that same evening, Frederick found himself alone. He had failed his loyal, courageous soldiers, and he had failed his kingdom today. Two of his horses had been killed, and he had barely escaped death himself. His chest still hurt where the bullet had struck him, but his snuff-box had caught the impact; he was sore, but uninjured.  
Had his past successes made him arrogant? Or had his enemies improved so much over the course of the interim between the previous Silesian Wars and this one? His tactics had never let him down back then, he was considered Europe's top general, the Prussian army the strongest in the world, almost. So how could it be that in this war, battle after battle, they were being crushed and pulverized like pocerlain dolls by their enemies?  
 _Prussia..._ Thinking of his life-long friend only hurt him now. His failures had caused the kingdom he loved so dearly so much suffering, he would never be able to forgive himself for it. But he had made his resolve: standing on this hill on his own, he would either defend what was left of his army and defend Prussia all on his own, or die trying. _I will not let them get to you again... Prussia._  
When he had met Austria, Hungary and Holy Rome for the first time back when he was little, he had never expected the three of them to have such a formidable army. It still pained him to know that every blow he dealt to the Austrian army was also a blow dealt to Austria; he still liked the young man himself, he just hated everything he stood for. He had never liked Hungary much, but he knew how much Prussia loved her, even though she had no idea of it. Prussia knew how to hide his emotions well, but ever since he'd had to fight wars against her, they had become too much to hold in any longer. But by now, all Hungary could see was her enemy -and maybe that was for the best. The two would be forced to fight each other, and if they were still as close as they once had been, it would only hurt them both. And Frederick knew that Prussia's pain would only worsen if he saw Hungary unhappy. Maybe her obliviousness to his feelings for her, or her rejection of them, whatever was the case, would hurt Prussia less over time if he saw that their friendship was a thing of the past, and that love between them was but a dream.  
He was causing his kingdom so much pain, so much misery. _Frederick the Great, they call me,_ he thought bitterly, sighing as he looked out over the battlefield, waiting for the enemy to chase after his retreating soldiers and slay them all. He knew it would come. _They're wrong. There's nothing 'great' about me._  
Suddenly he heard horses behind him, and he looked over his shoulder. His cavalry captain, Prittwitz, was riding his way with what looked like a couple hundred men. "Your Majesty!" he called, sounding distressed. "Your Majesty, we need you to return, I beg you!"  
But Frederick shook his head. "No, you need me _here,_ I promise you," he answered calmly. "I'm of more use here, taking some of our enemies down with me as I die, than back there."  
The captain gritted his teeth, and Frederick could see desperation in his eyes. "Today was a great loss for us," he reasoned with his king, "I cannot deny that. But one such loss does not render you _useless_ to your soldiers, your people. They need you, Your Majesty. _Prussia_ needs you."  
 _Prussia!_ Frederick's heart skipped a beat when he heard that name. Did the other man even know what that one word meant to his king? To him, 'Prussia' had never been his kingdom. He was his friend, the only person he loved deeply in this entire world. _I do not want to live to see him end,_ he thought, mind reeling. _But I cannot leave him yet. It would break the last remnants of his soul, I'm certain of it._ Once he had needed Prussia, needed someone to rely on to help him through his childhood. But the roles were switched now, and Prussia needed him instead. It was a heavy burden to carry, but Frederick knew better than anyone that he might well be one of the few, if not the only person left alive who kept Prussia sane right now, as the country struggled with his depression. It would shatter him completely if his only friend died now. _I cannot do that to him..._ So he sighed, giving a single, curt nod. "Very well, I'll come back with you."  
The men had brought a spare horse for him, and with a hollow feeling in his very being, he went with them.

Back with his troops, Frederick was immediately approached by his brother Henry, who was seething with anger. "We told you!" he bellowed at his elder brother, glaring at him accusingly. "We _told_ you and you wouldn't listen! Are you happy now, Frederick? Look around!" He gestured to the battered troops surrounding them; there were so few of them left. "We have lost _half_ our soldiers in this pointless battle of yours!" Henry went on, berating the king. "Heavy casualty count in our cavalry, our artillery has practically been obliterated, and Prussia is-!"  
"What about Prussia?" Frederick interrupted him, feeling ice creep into his veins at his brother's tone. He'd sounded terrified for a moment.  
Henry gritted his teeth, but took a deep breath and sighed then. "Go see for yourself," he said more softly, fear and distress laying clear in his voice as he nodded to the infirmary tent. "Try not to have a heart attack when you see him, will you? That would be just what we need to end this _glorious_ day." Then, without so much as looking at his brother again, he spun around and walked away, leaving Frederick to stand there on his own for a moment.  
Then, with guilt weighing his feet down, he tentatively made his way over to the infirmary. Entering it, his breath caught in his throat and his heart seemed to stop.  
Prussia was ghostly pale, dried blood on his lips, and as Frederick was watching, there were two nurses working on a deep cut in his side; just the fact that they were working together when there was a severe shortage of medics already told Frederick that Prussia was in a dangerously bad condition. They were rapidly unwrapping bandages around his bared stomach -his shirt and coat lay beside him on the floor, drenched in blood- and tossed them aside. They were a red and white, bloodstained heap on the ground.  
Feet dragging now, Frederick approached them. One of the two let out a startled yelp when she saw her king suddenly stand beside her like that. "Your Majesty!" she then exclaimed. "Do you -do you need help, too?"  
Quickly, Frederick shook his head and replied that he was fine. The other woman was already preparing clean bandages for the ragged cut in Prussia's left side, and he reached down to grab her arm and stop her momentarily. "Have you disinfected it?" he asked, heart beating in his throat by now.  
"N-no, I r-r-recall that his wounds d-don't ever get infected," she stammered, and he guessed she was as terrified for the kingdom as Frederick was.  
"Not easily, no," he answered, looking around for any alcohol. "But this is a war-wound, they're different for him. Here-" he then added once he'd spotted some whiskey and grabbed it. "Use this to disinfect his wounds -and everyone's, for that matter. Prussia told me it's perfect for cleaning out wounds. He..." The man sighed and fell silent. _He would be here, helping now, running from one bed to another to save his people, if he weren't in this condition,_ he said in silence, miserable. _He's one of the best we have, both as a soldier and a medic._  
The two nurses were already working on him again, following their king's instructions on disinfecting the deep flesh wound. Meanwhile, Frederick went to stand beside Prussia's head now, carefully running a trembling hand through his white hair. He was so still, the very faint rising and falling of his chest being his only movement, he looked like he was on the brink of death. _Please do not be that, my dear,_ he told him in silence. _I need you to hang on. Our people need us both._ With another deep sigh, he leaned down and lightly kissed the unconscious kingdom on his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Prussia."

He stayed beside Prussia then as long and often as he could, though he was also working to deal with the aftermath of this battle. Outside the infirmary, some soldiers who had escaped with minor injuries and were already patched up again had spread the word about the state their kingdom was in, asking around if anyone had seen him get shot or cut during the battle. But no enemy had ever touched him. "We're doomed," one of the soldiers declared, sounding horrified. "If our kingdom dies, then what? Do we all die?"  
"Can he even die?"  
"Have you seen him? I'd say he's one step away from it, poor scrap."  
"He was in no condition to fight today in the first place," someone then said, the words stabbing Frederick with guilt. "It's all too accurate nowadays to call him 'scrap', Hans, you were right. I remember what he was like at the start of this war... he looked invincible." He sighed then and shook his head. "Now he looks like he's slowly being executed, one battle at a time. We all are. Decimated."  
Suddenly someone called to Frederick from behind him, and he turned around. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he saw the Holy Roman Empire being escorted by two of his soldiers. The boy looked distraught. "Your Majesty," one of them said with a small bow to his monarch. "This boy invaded our camp just now; he claims to be the Holy Roman Empire."  
"He is," Frederick answered breathlessly, staring the empire in the eyes, stunned to see him here. "Thank you for bringing him to me, I'll take it from here."  
The two dismissed soldiers nodded and left, and immediately Holy Rome began pleading with the Prussian king. "Please, Frederick, I need to see Prussia," he begged him, eyes wide and terrified. "I heard reports from the Russian soldiers and I came immediately -he's been gravely injured, hasn't he? Oh, dear lord, Frederick, please tell me he's all right!"  
For a moment, Frederick couldn't answer; the boy's worry was so much more genuine than he would've expected from an enemy. But then he told himself that Holy Rome was Prussia's older brother, and naturally he would be worried for the young kingdom now. "I wish I could tell you that," he answered hoarsely, and he thought he could see tears welling up in the little empire's eyes now. "We've done all we could for him, but... he's in such a bad state... Holy Rome..." He nearly choked on the words, and blurted out eventually: "I-I don't know what to do now, he -he might die and it's my fault!" For a moment, his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew he couldn't do so in the midst of his soldiers. He was their leader and he needed to stay strong for them. Thankfully Holy Rome reached out and lightly touched his arm in a comforting gesture, and Frederick thanked him under his breath before taking him to the infirmary to see Prussia.  
By now the kingdom was constantly being watched, but no longer tended to; there really wasn't anything they could still do for him but watch over him now and help him in his fight to stay alive. When Holy Rome tentatively approached Prussia, a nurse tried to stop him, but he didn't react; instead, Frederick explained quietly that he was Prussia's older brother, then when the nurse look confused -Holy Rome looked 13, 14 years old at most whereas Prussia was 17 or 18 by now- he added with a wry smile that he was Prussia's 'little older brother' -uncommon but not impossible for their kind.  
Then he turned back to look at the two siblings, and it nearly broke his heart. Holy Rome sat beside Prussia and held one of his hands in both his own, softly stroking the back of it with one thumb as he whispered to him. "I'm so sorry, Prussia," he told his younger brother, sounding choked up. "This was never meant to happen. This battle should never have taken place."  
Another stab in Frederick's heart. This was all his fault. He should've listened to his brother and the other generals. He should have listened to his own common sense when he had looked at Prussia after their succesful initial attack; he'd been barely able to stand by then already. He should've known that Prussia would just start boasting again, he always did, he always covered up his pain and exhaustion and discomfort under many layers of arrogance like that. He should've seen through each and every one of those layers.  
Then this wouldn't have happened.  
"You'll hang on, won't you?" Holy Rome then pleaded with his brother, desperate and on the verge of tears. Frederick could hardly stand to listen to it, but he couldn't move. Holy Rome just took a deep, shaky breath and leaned over his younger brother's chest, placing his ear right above his heart as if to seek any confirmation that he was stil there in the first place. Then he sighed in relief seconds later and relaxed a little as he half lay on Prussia like that. "Good, keep that up," he whispered under his breath. "Keep it beating like that. Stay with me now. You'll make it." He kept saying things like that, his voice gradually growing softer until he was completely silent. But then, after a little while, he started crying almost soundlessly, clenching his hands into fists. "I will not bury another one of my siblings, Prussia, I refuse!" he then choked out between nearly silent sobs. "So you'd better hang on now, or I'll -I'll kill myself before they can even put you in a coffin! I don't know how, but I will! Do you want that? Because I will _not_ watch anyone else die!"  
Now Frederick really couldn't stay here anymore. His breath caught in his throat, he turned around and left quickly, biting the inside of his lip. As quick as he could, he went into his own tent and shut the entrance to it with his rapier sticking through the cloth. They would have to rip it open to get inside now. And there he allowed himself to break as he needed to right now, but as quietly as he could -no one could hear him. He really couldn't have that.  
But tears were trailing down his face. All those lives could've been spared. Thousands of human lives, thousand of them. And one so-called immortal life was in danger now, too, the most important one of all to him. And all of it was his fault.  
He couldn't go on like this. There was simply no way he could ever forgive himself. He had always believed long wars should be avoided at all costs; every day he was confronted with solid proof that it was harmful to the people, the economy, the overall state of a kingdom.  
 _Yet you keep on smiling at me._ Always, always Prussia was happy to be with him. Always he kept on caring about his old friend, was thankful for his presence, his support, spoke with nothing but praise about his leadership. It seemed like he used every ounce of willpower he had left to still smile despite the dark mental state he was in when he was with Frederick. He declared his love for his king often enough, and Fritz didn't even know anymore which kind of love he was refering to -and he didn't care. _How can you continue to love me, when it is because of me that you've known nothing but war since my ascension to the throne?_ Prussia never seemed to blame his friend for their losses, the pain he went through as he lost people again and again. _How can you not, when it's so obviously my fault that you're in this condition?_  
 _That you might not survive the aftermath of this battle?_  
 _That all those people lost their lives..._  
 _And that you might die?_  
He clenched his jaws, stopping his tears with difficulty. Then he grabbed paper and began to write his report of this battle.

 _This morning at 11 o'clock I have attacked the enemy._  
 _All my troops have worked miracles, but at a cost of innumerable losses. Our men got into confusion. I assembled them three times. In the end I was in danger of getting captured and had to retreat._  
 _My coat is perforated by bullets, two horses of mine have been shot dead. My misfortune is that I am still living..._  
That snuff-box shouldn't have been in his pocket. The bullet should have pierced his chest instead. Killed him.  
 _Our defeat is very considerable: To me remains 3,000 men from an army of 48,000 men. At the moment in which I report all this, everyone is on the run; I am no more master of my troops._  
Only very few people still remained here, he knew by looking over the battlefield that not everyone he'd lost had been killed. Maybe he could one day reassemble the army, but he doubted anyone would still be willing to fight for him now, whether it was their duty or not.  
 _Thinking of the safety of everyone in Berlin is a good activity._  
 _It is a cruel failure that I will not survive. The consequences of the battle will be worse than the battle itself. I do not have any more resources and -frankly confessed- I believe that everything is lost._  
Thinking of Prussia's current state tore his heart to pieces. He was constantly afraid that someone would walk up to him and tell him the kingdom, his dear old friend, had stopped breathing. Prussia was the barely-living proof that the consequences of this battle were already worse than the battle itself. It might cost Frederick everything he had sworn to serve and keep safe.  
It might cost him his dearest friend, his kingdom, and that was a thought he couldn't live with.  
 _I will not survive the doom of my fatherland. Farewell forever!_

 _Frederick_

* * *

 **Sorry, sorry, sorry!  
Kunersdorf was just a disaster for the Prussian army, and I couldn't ignore it in this story...  
Also, that letter Fritz wrote is a translation of the actual letter he wrote on the evening after the Battle of Kunersdorf. Numbers of troops and casualties he listed are different from the info I found, though... weird.**

 **And I swear to you, the next chapter won't be as sad. I've started on it already, and I promise I'll do my best to make a more lighthearted one again.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	42. Chapter 42

**Thanks to pinkdoughnuts, Abc, TheOldKaiser and MissiriKoharehn for the reviews, and Samara Wavequest for the follow and favourite!  
** **TheOldKaiser, that review was... beautifully written. You think _I'm_ doing a number on _your_ feels sometimes, people? Here it was the other way around, I swear.  
You made me feel so bad for Holy Rome just then!  
**

 **Anyway, thanks everyone, and I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

Weeks had passed before Prussia had finally made a full recovery after the Battle of Kunersdorf, but despite how bad his condition had been, had hadn't been as happy as when he'd woken up in a long, long time: Holy Rome had been there with him, and the little empire had nearly cried in joy upon seeing his younger brother awake and alive and recovering. Scotland had come as soon as he could, too, and even France and Saxony, even though they were enemies in this war. Saxony claimed he'd rather kill himself than have his younger brother in this state and _not_ come to check on him, and France explained to Prussia, once they'd gotten a moment alone, that he wasn't fighting his friend now because he hated him -it was because of politics, and nothing else. No personal reasons attached, none at all.  
And Prussia believed him.  
Perhaps it was _because_ of all of them being there with him that he recovered as quickly as he did, instead of _in spite_ of it like any doctor claimed. They all kept on telling everybody to leave Prussia alone, that he needed rest in order to heal well. But the happiness the Prussian felt in spite of everything that had happened was like none he'd felt for years on end: he wasn't alone. People were worried about him. People _cared._  
The best moment was when Holy Rome came back again after having been to Vienna for some time, by which time Prussia was already back on his feet again, though still forced to take it easy. The little empire had told Austria and Hungary about what had happened, as the two hadn't heard it from anyone else yet; apparently Russia, who had been in Kunersdorf that day despite not having encountered Prussia (which the Prussian thanked the heavens for when he heard this), hadn't bothered to tell anyone that his army and the Austrians' had nearly killed their enemy.  
"Austria wanted to come to Berlin to check on you right away," Holy Rome explained softly. "Maria Theresia wouldn't let him, of course. Poor Hungary practically had a panic attack when she heard you could've died." He chuckled softly when he saw Prussia's astonished, almost ecstatic red gaze. "Yes, seriously, I'm not joking. They said they were fighting his war because they wanted to put you back in your place, not in a _grave._ They couldn't forgive themselves if their actions ended up killing you, or anyone for that matter."  
Prussia sighed in relief at this, though also with a hint of sadness in it. "I know what that feels like," he mumbled softly, thinking back to Bavaria. He hadn't even _liked_ her and he felt guilty about killing her more than half a century after he'd done it. For some reason, Austria and Hungary apparently still cared about him, so it would be even worse for them. And just as they couldn't stand the thought of killing him, he wondered if he would ever forgive himself if he ended up killing Austria, no matter how much he disliked his cousin still.

* * *

The war raged on, but this time, Prussia did not return to the battlefield anymore. Fritz had stripped him of his military title and position for the duration of the war from Kunersdorf onward, and though Prussia was beyond angry about it at first, he realised it was only because the king didn't want anything like what happened then happen to him again. Still, once the Prussian army managed to get a few more victories and he began to feel just a little better again, he joined Fritz again anyway -this time only doing medical work, since Fritz then began threatening him with taking away his position as a Knight of the Royal Order of the Black Eagle, too, if he even dared to fight now. But he hated doing it; there was never enough time to save everyone with so few people working in the infirmary, and it hurt more to watch his soldiers die here than it did out on the battlefield. Out there it was his duty to fight alongside his people. Here it was his duty to save as many lives as he could, and he just felt he never did enough. If he did, more people would survive their injuries.  
But his new job became a little more enjoyable on 15 August 1760, after a Prussian victory over Austrian troops.  
Of course, once again, too many people were wounded to save them all, and after years of unsuccessful warfare, any battle saw enough losses to make Prussia feel at least a little faint, even the ones he won.  
He had just finished stitching up a deep cut in a man's shoulder, when another man came his way; this one had been lucky, getting out of the battle with only minor scratches, so Prussia was surprised to see him. But when the man reported to him of an Austrian soldier they'd taken captive, he understood. "She's been shot several times," the soldier said solemnly. "I think she might need your help, sir -we cannot afford to have this particular enemy dying now."  
Prussia's heartbeat picked up its pace. She? That could only be one person. "No," he agreed, grabbing everything he needed to clean out any wounds and to make stitches if necessary. "No, we can't let _Hungary_ die, of all people!" As he said this, he knew he was wrong; of course Hungary wouldn't die. Prussia was the only immortal enemy she had, except Hanover, who hadn't been here today. She couldn't have been injured badly enough to be lethal. Still, she was injured and he could help, so he let the soldier take him to the cell they kept Hungary in.  
She was unconscious as of yet, and Prussia could immediatelt see why: there were three patches of blood on her torso, and she'd been shot in the leg once, too. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her like this, but before he could do anything, a nurse grabbed him by the arm. "Prussia, sir," she said with an intense grey gaze. "We cannot afford to waste our supplies on her."  
"Waste?" he echoed, staring at her indignantly before turning back to look at Hungary. "Look at her -using anything to help her would not be a _waste_ , she needs it!" He pulled himself free and took a step closer to Hungary, but then the nurse pleaded with him again, and he stopped.  
"No, sir, she doesn't!" the human insisted, sounding desperate. "She hasn't been bleeding much in the first place, for someone who's been shot four times! You know she's already healing -our people need our supplies -and your help- more than she does."  
Hesitating only a moment, Prussia let his shoulders hang and sighed. This human was right, Hungary didn't need any help. He handed his supplies back to the nurse, then walked over to Hungary. His people needed his help, yes, but he needed just a few seconds beside her without her trying to hurt him. He hardly noticed that the human was still waiting for him there, too, and he didn't care. Tentatively, Prussia reached out and laid his hand on Hungary's cheek. She felt colder than she should be, but he knew that she would warm up again once her blood started regenerating. "I'm sorry, Hungary," he whispered softly, leaning down a little. "You'll have to make do on your own for now. But I'm here if you need any help after all, I promise." Then he lightly kissed her on the lips. She wouldn't notice it, anyway, and if even she could've known, he didn't care. How he still didn't hate her after all she'd done to him was beyond him. Austria had done much less to earn his hatred.  
But he couldn't dwell on that too long. People needed him right now.

It wasn't until over two hours later that Prussia got a chance to sit down; nearly everyone who needed help right away had been tended to now, and all the others could handle it without him at this point. In fact he had been sent away just now, told to get some rest. After all, a battle was a battle, and it still did nothing for his stamina, only against it. But just as he was about to sit down somewhere, he remembered Hungary might be awake again by now. And if that was the case, she was probably pissed off for having been captured and waking up in a cell somewhere in some Prussian fortress. He would go to her, whether or not she was awake to begin with. If she wasn't, maybe he could see if she was still in need of any help -just so long as he didn't waste any supplies as the nurse had said earlier. And if she was... he would find a way to deal with her anger. Then, as he made his way down to where she was kept, he smirked.  
Either way, he wasn't going to leave without another kiss for sure.  
When he got there, he found that the actual case was somewhere between the two scenarios he had envisioned: Hungary was conscious all right, but not exactly awake yet. She was lookingaround in a dazed state, and just as Prussia watched from a little distance it began to dawn on her where she was. Then when she saw him standing further down the hallway, she let out a startled yelp, then calmed herself again.  
Or, well... 'calmed' wasn't exactly an accurate enough description, it turned out. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled at him, completely awake in a heartbeat and glaring at him. "Taking a nation captive-!"  
"You did so, too, if you recall," Prussia just calmly told her, getting closer now. "And it wasn't _my_ decision, my men found you unconscious and shot multiple times on the battlefield and brought you here on their own accord. How was I to send you away again if you weren't even awake yet?"  
By now Hungary was staring at his hands and then his shirt with a disgusted, horrified stare, and Prussia doubted she had even been listening. Confused, he followed her gaze, seeing both his clothes and his arms still covered in blood -he hadn't taken the time to clean himself and get changed before he came here. Maybe he should've. "So, now what?" Hungary demanded coldly, though Prussia thought he could hear a sliver of fear in her voice. "Are you going to take revenge for when I laid siege on Berlin? Are you going to torture me like you did our soldiers just now?"  
"What?" the Prussian just asked, tipping his head to one side, even more confused than before now. "What are you going on about?"  
"Where else did all that blood come from?"  
For a moment, Prussia looked back at his blood-stained hands and clothes, then he just laughed. "You think that's what I did?" he choked out as he laughed. "By God, no! I was _saving_ lives, not ending them!" He laughed a few seconds longer, but Hungary was only staring at him wide-eyed.  
Then she shook her head. "No, you didn't," she stated bluntly, though she didn't sound too convinced. Rather, she sounded as if she wanted to convince herself of it. "You're _Prussia_ , for God's sake. When did you even learn to do all that?" She huffed, but her disbelief couldn't faze him: he knew a lot of his people owed him their lives, and some badly hurt Austrian soldiers, too. Let her believe whatever she wished, he knew what he had done and he was proud of it.  
Prussia shrugged. "Between the First and Second Silesian Wars. Read some books, did some fieldwork with Spain and France's army before I had to go out and fight again myself." He shifted on his feet, then sat down on the floor in front of her cell. Tentatively she lowered herself to the ground too, not letting her gaze leave him for even a split second, very cautious. But she seemed to relax when she sat as well. The albino kingdom then sighed. "But I'm really only suited for cleaning out wounds and stitching 'em up. All the _real_ work, I leave to the professionals. Usually though, we don't need much more than some good stitching skills and someone who knows how to prevent infections from coming on out here, so even now that I can't fight anymore, at least I have a way of still coming in handy."  
Hungary stared at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. "Whoever would've thought it...?" she whispered then, half to herself. Then she sighed and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts again. Then she huffed arrogantly. "Well," she stated, clearly trying her hardest to come across as indifferent. Prussia just smiled at this. His old friend was still in there somewhere. "It seems you're not a complete monster, then. Good for you."  
Despite the insult, Prussia chuckled. The way she had said it, 'not a complete monster' sounded eerily similar to 'awesome' for a moment. She sounded admiring, even. "I have done horrible things," he admitted, still smiling, "but not enough to be classified as a monster. I believe that, though true redemption is something I may never get, I've tried hard enough to get there to compensate."  
At this, Hungary narrowed her eyes. "Except for starting wars, which _you_ didn't do personally if anyone would ask you," she said then, "what do you mean with 'horrible things'? What you did to Austria a few years back?"  
"For example," Prussia sighed. Now why had he run his mouth like that, anyway? "But... I've done worse. But it's all none of your concern, Hungary."  
"Elizaveta," she then said suddenly, and when Prussia stared at her, not understanding, she repeated: "That's the name I chose to go by. Elizaveta. 'Hungary' sounds so... official." Then she shrugged and looked away, and Prussia thought he could see a very light blush creeping onto her cheeks. "And, well, since I still call you Gilbert instead of Prussia most of the time, it's only fair if you do the same with me, isn't it?"  
He just smiled, then the smile turned into a grin and he chuckled. "Fine by me," he said softly, " _Lizzie._ "  
Hungary's face completely went red now, though more out of annoyance than anything else, and she huffed. "I said, you may call me _Elizaveta_ , not your stupid variations to it!"  
"So you did," Prussia snickered, smirking wide. "But then you said something about _fairness_ , and since you call me _Gil_ all the time instead of Gilbert, I'll call you Lizzie instead -it's only fair after all." He laughed again when Hungary stared at him indignantly, but eventually the young woman joined in, the sound of her laughter making Prussia happier than anything had for the past few months. He fell silent a few seconds before she did, looking at her with a warm smile. When she stopped laughing again too and noticed his stare, she just returned the stare, clearly feeling a little bit awkward but not saying anything.  
Prussia just shook his head a few seconds later and laughed sheepishly. "Sorry," he mumbled, getting up again. "I'm just... glad that our friendship isn't completely gone yet." Then he stood completely motionless for a moment. If he was going to leave without that kiss he had in mind, then he was at least going to leave with an answer to this question. "What... what brought the change? Just months ago you would attack me on sight, and now it's... almost like the old days."  
Hungary was silent for a moment, and she looked a little uncomfortable after that question. But eventually she sighed. "Kunersdorf did," she confessed softly, looking at the wall instead of him. "When I heard what had happened to you, I figured that the only thing more unbearable than the thought of being anywhere near you, is the thought of losing you. So..." She trailed off, then shrugged and turned away even further.  
Prussia only smiled at this. _Admit it,_ he wanted to say, but he stopped himself. _You love me. Maybe not in the same way I do you, but still._ Instead of that, he reached through the bars and grabbed her hand gently, kissing the back of it and bowing in an exaggerated way. "Well, the Awesome Me is alive and at your service, my lady," he said jokingly.  
Hungary grinned at this, though she grimaced once she saw the blood on Prussia's hands was now on hers as well. Still, she played along. "Well, if you're at my service," she said sweetly, "surely you would be willing to free me from this prison?"  
"Ah, but that would be an act of kindness," Prussia then said with a smirk, leaning down a little until his face was level with Hungary's, his red eyes gleaming darkly. He hadn't forgotten her treatment of him when he was her prisoner yet. "And now why would I do _that?_ " Then he turned around, just after seeing anger and betrayal flash in Hungary's green eyes, and left casually without looking back.  
"You damn asshole!" Hungary yelled after him, the fire and hatred he was used to hearing from her nowadays back in her voice in a heartbeat. "After I did my best to treat you like I used to, too! Prussia, get your ass back here and let me go! _Gilbert!_ "  
Prussia only grinned as he listened to her. Oh, he most certainly loved that crazy woman. But right now, letting her feel the same betrayal he had because of her until only months ago felt even better than being with her and talking like friends again. _You'll stay there for much longer than a single night, Lizzie,_ he told her in silence, feeling a dark satisfaction. _Much longer._

* * *

 _1 December 1761_

 _To the Kingdom of Prussia_

 _After receiving word of the loss of Kolberg to Russian troops, it is our unfortunate duty to inform you that we will withdraw from sending you military and financial support hereafter if you do not engage in peace negotiations with your numerous enemies right away._  
 _As the United Kingdom of Great Britain are at the moment fighting our own war and are in need of supplies ourselves, we can no longer afford to aid a kingdom on the verge of total collapse._  
 _We hope you will heed our warning and be willing to make whatever concessions necessary to end this war._

 _The United Kingdom of Great Britain_

It was 20 December by the time Frederick received the letter. He had decided not to give it to Prussia -the kingdom must know by now what was going on, anyway. The king felt desperate as he looked at his old friend; Prussia had collapsed in the middle of a strategy meeting the day before, and right now he was slipping in and out of consciousness every few minutes. There was a siege on Berlin, the army consisted of less than 100,000 men, and Great Britain was threatening to no longer support them. Prussia was in the worst condition Frederick had ever seen him in, and that included Kunersdorf.  
Right now a doctor was checking up on Prussia to see if there was anything that could be done for him at this point, but the younger human eventually sighed and shook his head before turning to his king. He made a polite bow before reporting his conclusions. "Your Majesty, his situation is dire," the man confessed. "Even considering his immortality, I fear for his life, and that means something. Your Majesty, if the state of the kingdom is what causes this, I see no other option than ending this war as soon as possible to save him." Frederick narrowed his eyes. He had come to that conclusion already, but on the other hand, he had no idea what would happen to Prussia now if they gave up. Of course losing a war didn't kill nations, he had seen enough proof of that. But his enemies hadn't been in this state when they lost, surely. If Prussia lost this war now and had to give up the territories that were now being occupied, he would be left with almost nothing to keep him alive after.  
The doctor just went on, though he clearly realised the political difficulty of this situation, too. "For now, Your Majesty, the only thing that can be done for him is trying to lower his fever and making sure there is enough for him to drink whenever he wakes up -he is close to dehydration. Make sure that, if he even has the strength to get up in the first place, he doesn't do anything even remotely straining. His body is fighting hard enough when he's lying still like this, and I honestly cannot predict what could happen if he strained himself too much now. A human in this situation would be dying, if not dead, but for him..." He sighed softly, then bowed again. "My sincerest apologies, Your Majesty. Should Your Highness require my help again, I'll be near."  
Frederick only softly thanked him, then dismissed the man. He waited until he left to go to Prussia's side and sit down there; someone else had already placed a bucket with cool water and a soft cloth beside his bed earlier that day. The king just grabbed that cloth now and soaked it before carefully dabbing at Prussia's damp face, feeling numb as he did so. The kingdom was shivering as if he lay under a cover of snow instead of in a warm bed, and he moaned softly at the cold water trickling over his face now, trying to turn away from it. Frederick gently held his chin now with his other hand to keep him still, but the albino grimaced and whimpered at the cold, and he stopped with a sigh. "You're making this hard on me, you know," he whispered to his dear friend. "I'm trying to take care of you. Or would you rather have someone else do that? They might not be as gentle." Well, someone else would have to take over for him soon, anyway. There was too much work to be done, and he couldn't stay by Prussia's side all the time now. He sighed, feeling absolutely defeated. What had he done to his kingdom?

Prussia stirred, feeling woozy, and blinked open his eyes to a blurry world. He didn't know for sure where he was, but if the cold was anything to go by, it was probably the North Pole. _How did I get there?_ he thought vaguely, trying to turn onto his side, but something stopped him with a gentle nudge. Then he felt a splash of cold on his forehead again, and tiny droplets of icy water going down his face. He protested softly, though he only heard a feeble noise come out of him and no words. As if this damned North Pole wasn't cold enough yet. And besides, he would much rather have some water in his parched throat than on his face now.  
He opened his eyes again and looked to his side, seeing Fritz beside him. _And how did_ _ **he**_ _get here, too?_ But the man only smiled gently when he saw his kingdom looking at him. "Hey, Prussia," he said in a very soft, warm voice. "Would you like a bit of water, boy?"  
Prussia stared at him for a moment longer, then blinked, which was enough of an answer to Fritz. The old human carefully moved an arm behind Prussia's back and propped him up, holding a small cup with icy cold water just an inch away from the kingdom's lips. Prussia took the cup from him in a trembling hand, and Fritz decided it was best if he kept hold of the thing, too, lest it slip from the Prussian's feeble grasp now. Never before had cold water felt so good as it slid down his throat. Or had it? He didn't remember.  
When Prussia was done, Fritz smiled again and silently set the cup aside before moving a few strands of sticky white hair out of the kingdom's face. It took him a moment to realise his king had just asked him if he wanted any more water right now, but then he grunted disagreeingly. His stomach was already churning now, he probably wouldn't even be able to hold in water now if he drank a drop more, despite the cup he had drank before having been small. Even with his blurred sight right now, Prussia could see worry and disappointment flash in his beloved friend's eyes. _Sorry._ Then Fritz silently laid him down again, pulling the covers up to over his shoulders. Prussia could feel his consciousness slipping again the moment he lay there and closed his eyes, but he could just about notice Fritz lightly kissing his cheek and hear him say that everything would be fine.  
"You will be fine, son."  
Prussia sighed and groggily opened his eyes again, only to realise quite some time must have passed between when he had heard Fritz say something similar and hearing this voice. The light shone into his room from a different angle than when he had last opened his eyes. _Oh, right,_ he realised then, shifting with a deep breath and a long sigh afterward. _This isn't the North Pole, it's my room. Silly Awesome Me._ Then the voice came again, and he suddenly remembered that this had been what had woken him up just now. "I promise, Prussia, you'll make it through this."  
Confused as to why he didn't know this voice -he knew everyone around here, after all- he looked up through half-lidded eyes. A man sat beside him, tall and broad-shouldered, with long, golden blond hair and icy blue eyes. Somehow he was familiar to Prussia, and he wondered if he had seen him before. Where, then, and when? The man only smiled a tiny but sympathetic smile, and added softly: "After all, in your own right you're the strongest of my children. I have yet to see a situation that you cannot make it out of alive, Prussia."  
These words suddenly sent a jolt of realisation through the kingdom, and it gave him just enough strength and willpower to croak out a single name now: "Germania...?"  
The man nodded slowly. "We're all here for you, son," he said in a whisper. "Brandenburg is sitting on your other side. Wurtemberg and your own former incarnation are here too, among others."  
"Even me," came another familiar voice, one he'd thought he'd never hear again. _Bavaria!_  
Then he felt a warmth hovering over him, and Brandenburg's soft voice whispering into his ear. "Just sleep, love. We'll take care of you, I promise. You won't have to join us for a while yet."  
Prussia closed his eyes again, feeling sleep crash over him again like a tidal wave. _I won't have to be with you yet?_ he thought feebly, trying to hang on to his consciousness now -he didn't want this moment to end quite yet, not so soon. _But you just got here. I_ _ **want**_ _to be with you all. Please..._ But then his exhaustion took him again, and the last thing he heard before falling asleep once more was his father's voice, telling him gently to rest.

* * *

This went on for a few weeks, until on 5 January 1762, a true miracle happened. The Russian Empress Elizabeth died suddenly, and her successor just so happened to be very fond of Prussia. He immediately withdrew his army from Prussian territory, resulting in one less enemy for King Frederick to worry about. The Austrian army was clearly exhausted after 6 years of war, and the French army was suffering at the hands of Britain -although Britain had declared war on Spain a day before the Empress's death. Sweden had never been fighting much, only occupying Silesia. It was a moment filled with hope.  
If, of course, these things also improved Prussia's health, but unfortunately the kingdom had more bad days than good. For some time after the Russian withdrawl from the war, his fever had lowered to the point that he was alert again and moving around Sanssouci independently again, though he was being kept an eye on nearly all the time still. But this improvement had only been short-lived, and by now his fever was back with a vengeance. Sometimes Fritz got the feeling his dear friend was delusional because of it, talking to people who weren't there -the most common one being Brandenburg, but sometimes he was talking to himself, too. Once he'd told Fritz in a half-asleep state that 'he didn't really like talking to Prussia', and when Fritz, confused and worried, asked him why not, he just answered: "Because she can be so cranky sometimes, she's quite unawesome for a Prussian."  
To make matters worse, the kingdom had decided to... 'take a stroll' through the palace on the very day that Russia and his new Emperor arrived for negotiations.

Emperor Peter III looked like he adored Frederick, and seemed amazed to even be in his presence. Frederick wasn't too fond of it, but at least he knew that this man was his only hope of survival for himself and all of Prussia, so he put up with it.  
"We shall send you troops to aid you further in this war," the younger man promised the Prussian king once they had sat down somewhere to talk. He looked at Russia for a moment, then back to his new Prussian ally. "Also, I shall mediate in your peace negotiations with Sweden; you won't have to worry about him anymore soon."  
Frederick dipped his head and thanked him politely, then also glancing at Russia. The tall nation was more silent than Frederick was used to after the few times he had met him, and looked slightly disappointed that Prussia wasn't there; the king had no idea whether that was a good sign, or a bad one. After all, the relationship between the two had always been a little... tense, though especially on Prussia's end.  
Which was exactly why the old human felt a shiver of dread when he saw the Russian's eyes light up and a smile formed on his lips as he looked over Frederick's shoulder at something. "Ah, there you are!" he greeted someone -and Frederick realised in an instant who that 'someone' was- with a warm smile. "Hello, Prussia. You look awful."  
...Russia always had such weird manners. Too much honesty for sure. But Frederick couldn't worry about that now. Instead he turned around and got to his feet in an instant, mumbling a soft apology to his guests.  
Prussia looked like he had no clue where he was exactly, and he didn't seem to notice the two Russians. When Frederick came to stand by his side and supported him with one arm, he did recognize his friend, but that was about all. "Fritz!" he rasped, his voice barely audible as he spoke. "Fritz, have you-" He broke off and stumbled despite the support he got from his king, slumping against him and wrapping his arms feebly around his neck to stay remotely balanced. Frederick could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the kingdom was shivering in his arms. "Have you seen my father...?" Prussia then asked him again, whispering to him. "He was here just a moment ago... I wasn't done talking yet."  
Frederick's blood ran cold at this. That was another person Prussia had his 'conversations' with: his father, whom Frederick had never heard about until then. He had always been under the impression that Prussia had told him everything there was to know about the albino, but the existence of his father, alive or dead, was something new, and he wasn't even sure it wasn't just a feverish delusion of his, yet another one.  
Prussia then collapsed entirely, and Frederick could only just catch him, slowly kneeling down and moving Prussia on the ground so that he could carry him, answering as he did so. "No, I'm afraid I haven't seen him," he replied softly, carrefully stroking Prussia's forehead in a way that made it seem like he was just brushing hair out of his eyes. The kingdom was burning up. "But you need to go back to bed, my dear; you should try to sleep off that fever again."  
He then slid one arm behind the sick country's knees and was about to pick him up when Russia got to his feet. "You need help with him, _da_?" he offered with a kind smile, though as per usual there was something menacing behind that smile of his, and Frederick immediately shook his head, apologizing once again for the interruption and telling his guests to wait for him as he carried Prussia back to his room. That young Emperor must be astonished by now, but Frederick didn't care; _he_ was the one who had done this to Prussia, _he_ was the one who would take care of him now. Most other European leaders would probably call for someone else to do this little job when they were in the middle of such an important conversation, but Prussia was _his._  
With a shudder he noticed that the young kingdom felt lighter in his arms than he had been a few weeks ago, when he had collapsed for the first time. Prussia had just about gained some weight again after the Battle of Kunersdorf, by which time he had been rather underweight. He was back at that point again after about a month of this sickness.  
Frederick sighed as he laid Prussia back down in his bed and the kingdom immediately looked past him and smiled a little. "Hey, Brand..."  
"Hush, Prussia," he just whispered to him, once again pulling the covers over his shivering body. "Just sleep. Just sleep."  
It took only seconds for the Prussian to be fast asleep again, and Frederick watched him for a moment longer. Then, suddenly, he felt anger wash over him, and he turned around to face the rest of the otherwise empty bedroom. "I don't know who you are," he said angrily, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know what you want with Prussia. But if you're here to take him, let me tell you now, he's _mine_ , and I'm not letting him go yet, not for as long as I live!" Brandenburg he could handle, it was natural for Prussia to have hallucinations about someone he'd loved so dearly, surely. But all the other people he hallucinated about... _If_ they were really there, then they were dead lke Brandenburg was, and he could see no other reason for their presence here than that they were waiting for Prussia to die so that he could go with them. And that was _not_ going to happen. "I know it's my fault that he's in this state," he went on to whoever was or wasn't there. "But I swear to God, I will make up for my mistakes. You will not get Prussia yet. I won't let you."  
Naturally, there came no answer, and for a moment he felt stupid for even thinking that anyone could hear him. But then he looked back down at Prussia, who was sleeping uneasily, and he sighed. Silently he went back to his guests, and both Russia and his Emperor looked worried about Prussia -the human more so than the nation, though.  
"Well, if I may be honest," the younger man said to Frederick when the king sat down again. "It seems like our help has arrived just in time for him."  
Frederick didn't answer.  
 _I hope you're not too late already._

* * *

Still, as the year passed, Prussia got better again, partly because of the Russian support they now got. British subsidies hadn't stopped yet now that they were at peace with Russia and negotiating peace with Sweden, and a Prussian victory seemed more like a true possibility than it had in ages. Scotland came in again that summer to apologize for their threats of withdrawing their support for Prussia, but also explaining why it was such a necessity that the Prussian listen to them. Prussia just listened in silence, nodding every now and then, but he couldn't forgive the decision: if Russia hadn't changed his mind about alliances, Great Britain would've left their ally to die. Scotland noticed how he felt, and didn't make any attempt to be friendly with him on any other level than business-like anymore, like they had been at the start of the war. They could get along well, but if one could just stand by and watch the other die, then they definitely weren't friends, and Prussia doubted he could ever forgive the Scot and his brothers for this.  
Gradually Prussian troops, with Russian support among their ranks, began to drive out the Austrians from the Saxon territory Prussia had occupied during the start of the war, while in the north Prince Henry was taking back Pomerania.  
Russia changing his alliance, an event that came to be known as 'the Miracle of the House of Brandenburg', had completely changed the tides of the war.  
In early 1763, Russia's Emperor had been overthrown by his wife, who ended the alliance with Prussia immediately. Around the same time, Great Britain followed through with their threats and stopped aiding the kingdom, too, but by then the war was already coming to an end in Europe at least. Prussia had been at peace with Russia and Sweden since the year before, and Austria's economy was torn apart just like his was now. They were done.  
After seven long years, the Third Silesian War finally came to an end.  
And in the end, nothing had changed: Prussia kept control over Pomerania and Silesia, Saxony was free of Prussian occupation. It was a definite _status quo ante bellum_ , something that had seemed impossible to achieve just a year before.

The Treaties of Hubertusburg between Austria and Prussia was signed just 5 days after the Treaty of Paris between France and England, on 15 February 1763.  
Everyone could see that Prussia was devastated by the war, but so were Austria and Hungary and Saxony. The three approached Prussia by the end of the day, and the albino kingdom just coldly stared at them. _You almost killed me,_ he accused them in silence. _More than once. Whether you planned to or not, you almost killed me with this little stunt._ And then he gritted his teeth just a moment. _Bastards._  
He was waiting for similar accusations from their end, or a vow that they would, without fail, get Silesia back one day. A threat that they _would_ put him back in his place someday. But none of that came. Instead, Austria silently held out his hand to him after hesitating for a moment. Prussia only stared at him for a moment, narrowing his eyes in anger. Was he mocking him? But no, not that either. "Prussia, you..." he began, trailing off almost immediately and sighing. Obviously this was a hard thing for him to say, but he managed in the end. "You're amazing, Prussia. Sometimes over the past few years, I got the feeling that _you're_ the only one among us who is truly immortal. Invincible at least." He narrowed his dark eyes now too, but with a completely different emotion than Prussia. "What does a person need to do to defeat the Legendary Black Eagle?"  
Somehow, that question brought to mind something that Prussia had heard sometime, and when he really thought about it, he though it must have been sometime during his feverish delirium a year before. _I have yet to see a situation that you cannot make it out of alive, Prussia._  
And then he grinned, chin up, red eyes gleaming triumphantly. "I have yet to figure that out myself," was the only thing he answered with.  
Only one thing had really changed by the end of the Seven Years' War:  
From now on, Prussia had really earned the respect of everyone for his endurance, his strength, his strategy and great administration in wartime, and he had completely secured his place at the top.

And he would do anything to stay there.

* * *

 **So ehm, here is the end of the angst (for a few chapters, we all know Fritz is getting old (though honestly 51 -his age in 1763- isn't old, but back then I suppose it was an achievement to become as old as he did))**

 **I swear I will not be as much of a jerk to Prussia anymore for a couple of chapters. Cross my heart and hope to die (pun _totally_ intended).  
He still has to meet America after all... *smirk***

 **So that's something you can look forward to, I suppose?  
**

 **My schoolyear is nearly over, so I will be writing more frequently. I plan to start on Hope to Die before the end of summer (but then planning usually doesn't go well for me, does it?)**

 **Anyway! Thanks for reading once again!**


	43. Chapter 43

**As promised, some more 'fun' than there has been in the last few chapters, and America!  
Thanks to Abc, TheOldKaiser and pinkdoughnuts for the reviews, and to gamerright11 and HetaliaGirl-21 for the favourite and follows!**

 **Now I hope this will make up for some of the things I've done to Prussia over the past few chapters...**

* * *

 _1 December 1777_

 _This is so awesome. This is so awesome._  
 _Oh dear God this is so awesome._  
 _Finally the day has come, and I'm in the New World now! Well, all right,_ _America._  
 _I guess I'm just really lucky my awesome general met an American while in Paris, who then helped create contact between Von Steuben and this Washington guy. Fritz told me I should come along, only for a shorter period of time, as right now it isn't certain if or when Von Steuben is going to return to his homeland. I will leave again at the end of this year._  
 _I cannot believe that only months ago, when Fritz first gave me this opportunity, I was against it. But then, even now I have my doubts about being here for so long..._  
 _Will Fritz still be there when I return? He'll turn 66 in February._  
 _But he insisted I should go, and he was right. Even for someone with a lifespan like mine, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; if it weren't, I would've set foot on this land long ago already._

 _And now, really just hours from now, I will get to meet America! I wonder what he looks like, what kind of person he is. Considering his age, I'd wager he still looks really young too. Maybe he's just a child? Ah, he doesn't really know anything about me yet either, I suppose. That's a good thing. A completely clean slate, an utterly unbiased immortal! Those are nonexistent for me in Europe, even though there are plenty of countries there that I've never met in person yet._  
 _Fritz, thank you so much for letting me go here! Just wait for me, Old Fritz, because I'll have a lot to tell you when I come home again!_

"Well, that wasn't exactly the welcome I had hoped for," Prussia muttered softly not too long after having written his journal entry. He, Von Steuben and the others had almost been apprehended the moment they arrived in Portmouth: apparently it had been a mistake to dress in red. But how were they to know the Americans were _that_ touchy about red uniforms, honestly?  
But all of that had been settled now, and the welcome they had gotten after this little incident was a lot warmer already. When the Americans had told them why it was an issue that they wore red, Prussia just laughed and told them they had done it because it matched his eyes so well -naturally he had gotten a few careful, nervous stares already. This turned out to be enough to shut them up both about the red uniforms _and_ to put an end to those awkward stares. Instead they just praised him for his knowledge of English -of course he had been practicing over the years, elaborating on his own on the few lessons he had gotten from Scotland, with a bit of help from the few people he knew who spoke the language. Von Steuben didn't speak a word of it, so Prussia figured they must have been glad that at least _one_ person did.  
Then, a little while later, one of the American humans approached him. "Young man," he began politely, and Prussia just grinned. _'Young man who's like, only 15 times your age or something like that'... right._ "America came all this way from York to meet you. He arrived just a few days ago."  
"He's here?" Prussia interrupted him, failing to mask his excitement for just a moment there. He controlled himself again when he continued: "I mean, he's here _right now_?"  
The human's lips twisted into a tiny, controlled smile, but amused nonetheless. Then he nodded and gestured to somewhere behind him. "Absolutely."  
Immediately, Prussia stepped aside to look past the man; there was a teenager there, looking around curiously. The human then told Prussia to stay where he was, and went to get America. Prussia's heart skipped a beat when they walked his way again. It had been so long since he'd met a new country like this, especially one that didn't know anything about him yet, except that he was one of the strongest, most influential nations in Europe these days. He could just about pick up the last part of what the human was saying to the young country before they had reached him: "...he will be the one training you for warfare -we've been assured that he is the best there is."  
Something flashed in America's eyes at that, and he looked almost as nervous as Prussia felt. But at the same time, there wasn't an ounce of fear in his expression, which was good. He was nervous but not afraid, just as Prussia had wanted it. After all, that was exactly how he felt himself. "N-nice to meet you, Prussia," he greeted the kingdom politely, stammering only on the first word. "I am America."  
 _Yes, yes, yes!_ _This is so awesome, I'm on the other side of the world right now, and I'm_ _ **talking**_ _to a country from the other side of the world!_ "Ha, good to meet you too, kid!" he greeted him back with a grin. "I'm Prussia!"  
When he said this, America gave him a weird look for just a moment, and confused he frowned at this. America immediately apologised. "Sorry, it's just... your accent is so weird!"  
"I could say the same about you," Prussia just replied, still not really sure what to think of this. Was America insulting him? "That doesn't sound like any English I've heard before. I mean, well, the words are similar, but..."  
America just shrugged. "Yeah, dad complains about my accent all the time. But then, he complains about a lot of things. No, it's... I've never heard anyone from any Germanic country speak English before." The younger country furrowed his brows for a moment, adding with slight confusion: "But you also kinda sound like uncle Al...?"  
 _Al? Oh, he probably means Allistair!_ "Scotland?" Prussia then stammered. "Uh... well, he was the first to teach me English, after all. I didn't know I picked up some of his accent along the way, though."  
"Well, you did, and it sounds really funny!" America just chuckled. Prussia then noticed the human had already left the two countries alone now, and America looked to his side now too, noticing the same. He suddenly seemed a lot more awkward. "Uhm, well..." he stammered softly, looking back up at Prussia. "Thanks for coming all this way to help me train for battle. I'm sure I can learn a lot from you. I-I heard you're an expert in battle strategies."  
Prussia nodded proudly. "From training the army to setting up strategies and winning the battles I fight, even helping the wounded afterward, I've years of experience in it all." Then he snickered, grinning arrogantly. "I've got plenty to teach a little kid like you, trust me: just prepare yourself well, I am _not_ soft on the soldiers I train."  
America smiled at this, somewhere between nervous and amused. "Really? You don't seem like such a harsh person so far. Honestly, you don't look anything like I thought a seasoned soldier like you would." He then looked past Prussia at where Von Steuben stood and nodded to him. "He looks more like it."  
"With his age, he looks like a seasoned _everything_ ," Prussia just joked. But then he got more serious again, narrowing his eyes at America. "But I swear to you, kid, if you want to stand a chance in this war, you'll need my advice: you're severely outnumbered against Britain, and fighting against superior forces just so happens to be my _specialty_."

* * *

It wasn't until a month later that the training began, in the early weeks of 1778. At the break of dawn, Prussia made his way over to where America slept in silence. He stood there for just a few seconds, watching the boy sleep, then straightened himself and folded his hands neatly behind his back, chin up as he roared: "THE SUN IS RISING AND SO SHOULD YOU, SOLDIER!"  
America woke up with a yelp, sitting up immediately. Wide-eyed he stared at Prussia, scared and surprised to see him there. "Dude!" he choked out, voice quivering. "Not funny, not funny _at all_!"  
Prussia just raised one eyebrow at this, inquiring calmly: "Does it look like I want to be _funny_ , then?" America didn't answer, and Prussia just went on. "This is no way to greet a colonel, a lieutenant, a general, or anyone. Snap to it, soldier. At this rate I'll manage to get you in shape in a century from now." America grimaced and grunted for a moment, then got to his feet, slumped over a bit. " _Straight!_ " Immediately the younger country straighened his back. Well, more or less. Now Prussia sighed, took a step closer to him and gave him a rough nudge in his back, then pushed between his shoulderblades and grabbed him by the chin. His face only an inch away from America's, he muttered angrily: " _This_ is what straight feels like. _Remember it._ "  
"Yes!"  
"Yes... what?"  
"Yes sir!"  
Prussia grinned at this, then gave the young country a curt nod. "Good, you're learning. Now, soldier, do some push-ups. Fifty should do."  
He waited patiently, but America only stared at him as if he was insane. "B-but," he started protesting feebly, "I haven't even had breakfast yet -I'm _starving,_ how should I exercise like this?"  
Prussia stifled a sigh. _He's a handful already and the day hasn't even properly begun yet._ "Just as you do when you aren't hungry," he said bluntly. "When the British troops attack, is this what you will say to them? Or will you snap to it and fight, knowing your life depends on it?" America looked like he wanted to protest again, but Prussia interrupted him before he could even make a sound. "Fine then! Do you need a demonstration, you little baby? Watch how it's done." He dropped to the ground, doing twenty swift push-ups with both hands on the ground, then moved his right hand onto his back and did another twenty with just his left arm, after which he switched and did the same again. Then he placed both hands on the ground and with one last, massive heave, he pushed himself right back up to his feet. Calmly he straightened his clothes again and moved a strand of his hair from his eyes, then turned to America, completely poker-faced. "I'm only asking you to do fifty, and you can use two hands the entire time. So? Going to start anytime soon yet?"  
America was silently staring at him, his mouth slightly open. "That was... that was _awesome_!" he choked out. "How'd you -you don't look _that_ strong, how'd you-?" But then he fell silent and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. " _Wait_ , how do I know you haven't eaten anything yet, either? This must be impossible on an empty stomach."  
As if on cue, Prussia's stomach growled, not too loudly, but America still heard it. The Prussian just sighed, annoyed, and muttered in response: "That's how. So as you can see, it's not impossible. Now _do it_."

Minutes later, they were outside, and Prussia instructed America to run a few laps around his house. The American grunted and complained, but did as he was told. While shouting instructions at the younger country everytime the boy passed him, Prussia eventually decided to just sit down, knowing it would aggravate America to see his trainer taking it easy while he was being drilled like this before the day had even properly begun. And that anger that would build up now could be used to their advantage; Prussia knew from his own experiences that frustration drove people to fight harder for their rights. Hell, his feelings over the past centuries were probably the only reason he had made it to the top now: the feeling that he had something to prove to the world had driven him to fight every second of his life, never even dreaming of giving up. Of course he'd had help along the way, but especially over the past century, after Brandenburg died, he had done it all on his own.  
Now if America wanted freedom, he would have to know exactly what fighting like that felt like.  
Eventually a woman came out as well, a servant here -and America had proudly proclaimed that she was in voluntary and most importantly _paid_ service- and looked amused for a second when she saw America run past them again. "Would you care for breakfast, sir?" she then asked Prussia politely, who tried his best to hide his smirk. If he _really_ wanted to get America angry now...  
"That would be lovely, thank you."  
Only minutes later the woman came back with said breakfast, and when America came running by once again seconds later, the young teen stopped. "Hey!" he yelled angrily. "That's no fair!"  
"Life isn't fair, boy, learn that," Prussia replied calmly, taking a sip of his tea. "Now have I said you could stop yet? _RUN_!" America looked like he wanted to protest again, but scowled instead and obeyed. Prussia then turned back to the human, gesturing to an empty chair. "You're welcome to sit and watch; this will be hilarious. Great tea, by the way. I'm usually not a fan of it, but this is really nice."  
America ran three more laps before he decided he was sick of it and approached Prussia with tense shoulders and an angry glare. "How is this _training?_ " he demanded angrily, panting. "I've done those damn push-ups, I've run 17 laps around my house, and you're just sitting there doing nothing!"  
Prussia shrugged and silently took a bite of the bread he had been given. America only seemed to get angrier at this and started saying something else, but Prussia gestured to him to be quiet. Then after he'd swallowed the bread, he just simply queried: "So my training program isn't satisfactory?"  
" _No,_ " the American replied, sounding enraged. "Now finally give me some of that goddamn food, I'm seriously starving!"  
"No."  
Now America lashed out with his fist, but he was clumsy compared to what Prussia was used to, and the kingdom could easily avoid him even while seated. Then, before America could try to punch him a second time, he got up and immediately slid down, kicking America against his right shin. The boy managed to avoid being hit, but lost his balance, so Prussia only had to straighten himself again and give him a soft push against the shoulder to make him fall. America gritted his teeth at this, but all anger faded from his expression and turned into astonishment when Prussia silently held out some of the bread to him.  
"Good job," he praised the teen as he got up, still confused, and gratefully took the food that was being offered to him. "I like your fire; your _skill_ , on the other hand, still needs some work. Now eat up, you've got a tough day ahead of you." Narrowing his eyes in an almost sadistic delight, he added: "After all, the day has only just begun."  
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" America muttered with his mouth full.  
"Every second of it."

* * *

America was making improvements quickly, and when Von Steuben was appointed Inspector General by General Washington a few months later, so did the boy's army. Prussia still remembered his first visit to a military camp of the American troops; he had never seen such a sorry bunch, such a pathetic excuse for soldiers. They hadn't even known what a bayonet was for, but after Von Steuben's training, they started using it more effectively rather quickly.  
The worst part to Prussia was that they had no sense of hygiene.  
Prussia was, admittedly, not fond of anything dirty. Absolutely not. In his own right, he might even be considered a neat freak at times -lazy as he could be, there were times when he enjoyed cleaning above anything else.  
Those moments were usually after encountering something so impossibly dirty that it sent shivers up his spine and made him want to wash for a week straight.  
The American military camps were perfect examples of that: animals that died were eaten, and the parts they couldn't use were left where they lay to rot away. _Everywhere_ was a toilet to them. The moment America brought him to one such camp, he grimaced, turned around and walked away again. It wasn't until America and Von Steuben joined forces to convince him to come back again that he dared to set foot there, immediately ranting to the soldiers about what disgusting beings they were, being able to live in that filth. The Prussians did not only improve the army's fighting skills and administration, they also brought improvements to general quality of life in military camps.  
And then there were the strategies: Prussia and Von Steuben were joined by two Americans, colonel Hamilton and General Greene, to develop strategies for the revolution, and were actually of great use in doing so. By then Prussia had given up hope that the Americans had any clue what they were doing, but these two men knew what they were talking about. He didn't mind Greene so much, but sometimes Hamilton could really annoy him; _Prussia_ was the rebelious loudmouth at times, he did not need a rival for that position.

When summer came, America had taken Prussia further west, on command of General Washington, so that they could train with just the two of them; America was now ahead of his soldiers, something Prussia was proud of, and it was now up to Prussia to teach him survival alongside it.  
The General probably hadn't anticipated that in this land, unknown to Prussia and home to America, it would be the other way around when it came to teaching survival techniques. And he also didn't seem to know about albinism at all. The sun was blazing.  
"Prussia, are you going to come out from under there or what?" America complained as he stood beside Prussia, who lay on the ground with his coat over his head and arms, all the rest thankfully covered up by his clothes -but then, it was so warm that they stuck to his skin by now. In short, he was just really uncomfortable. "It's past noon and you haven't given me any drills yet. What's wrong? You're not sick, are you?"  
"No, I'm just fine," Prussia replied, his voice muffled by his coat. "Just shedding more skin than a cat sheds fur in summer. But other than that perfectly awesome, as always. Come back when the sun's gone down, I'll give you the worst drill of your life."  
He heard America chuckle and imagined the amused look in his eyes as he gazed down at his trainer. "You know, there was a time just a few months ago when I was scared of you," he confessed, trying not to laugh, but Prussia could hear the quiet shivers of laughter in his voice. "Little did I know the war-god Prussia was scared of the _sun._ What, are you a vampire or something?"  
"Albino," Prussia muttered in response. "Same thing, really, as far as weakness to sunlight goes. Back home it's usually not so bad -I live up north, you see- but _this_. How do you stand it?"  
"I like it, it's nice and warm and sunny," America replied, then he leaned down and pulled Prussia's coat off him. The Prussian cringed at the sudden bright light, closing his eyes quickly with a grunt. America only laughed and pulled him to his feet. "Come on soldier, snap to it!"  
Prussia only slumped forward in an over-dramatised way, though in fact he was hoping he could shield at least his eyes from the sun's unrelenting light that way. "Easy for you to say," he grumbled angrily. "You have no idea what this is like."  
America just silently picked at Prussia's face, pulling a loose, thin layer of skin from his otherwise completely red cheek, then grimaced. "I think I can imagine." But Prussia shook his head, telling him that his skin wasn't the only thing that was affected now: his eyes were really sensitive to light, so right now his eyes hurt, so his head hurt, and his sight was blurry. America just patted him on the shoulder in mock sympathy. "Poor man. But still, we have a job here, so get a move on."  
"Stupid children," Prussia just complained under his breath as he followed America across the plains. "The youngsters these days really have no consideration, do they?"  
"Says the man who has made me do ridiculously intense exercise from dawn to dusk for _months,_ " America just countered, pulling Prussia along by now. "And what do you mean, 'youngsters'? You're hardly an adult yourself. What are you, 18?"  
"586."  
"You know what I mean," the younger country sighed. Then he suddenly halted, and Prussia, not looking up, bumped into him, but America paid no mind to that. "Hey, how often do you take the time to just have fun, actually? You're strict with me, but you seem really strict with yourself, too. I've only seen you train me, train the soldiers, train yourself, develop strategies, rant about hygiene, eat and sleep for the past _months._ " After a short pause and a moment to think, he added: "And I think you've read a book once. But that's all I can remember."  
"Reading is fun," Prussia just replied, rolling his eyes, regretting that when he caught more sunlight like that, then stared at the ground again. But America didn't seem to agree.  
"Reading _can_ be fun," he protested, "but reading up on politics and philosophy seems more like work to me." He then turned around and grabbed Prussia by the shoulders, staring him straight in the eyes, his own blue irises twinkling with excitement. "That's it, then, I've made my decision! Prussia, you've been a great teacher in the art of war. Now let _me_ be your teacher in the art of _playing._ "  
"You'll _what?_ " Prussia choked out, too astonished to even laugh about the ridiculousness of it. "No. No way. I am _not_ going to do that, you can't make me. I'm too awesome for that bullshit." He sighed and shook his head. Him, playing? He couldn't even imagine it. He couldn't even imagine what kind of games America was thinking about -what kids back home did, tag or hide-and-seek? Ridiculous. The heat must've gotten to his head, that must be it.  
"Well, whatever," America then sighed, scratching the back of his head for a moment, looking around. "We'd better head home, anyway. But eh... You know wolves, right?" Prussia nodded. "And cougars? They're also called moutain lions. Really big nasty cats. And there might be poisenous snakes about at this time of the day, too -they love sunlight." Prussia was starting to look forward to the treck back to America's home less and less as the boy told him all of this. "Oh, and remember that huge brown animal you spotted earlier this week?"  
"What about it?"  
"Do you have them over in your woods, too?" Prussia only shook his head now, wondering what the heck that big brown thing was, then, and if it was anything to worry about. Honestly he had never seen a predator that big, so it was probably prey instead. But America proved him wrong. "It's a bear. Real territorial, those fuckers, 'specially at this time of the year. Usually they don't do anything unless you get to close to them, though, but they can tear a man to pieces in a heartbeat."  
Prussia was silent, staring at him wide-eyed. So there could be big vicious dogs, big feral cats, or big... 'bears' around here, and then some venomous snakes? _What kind of deadly hellhole is this country?_  
America only laughed at his expression, then patted him on the shoulder. "Yeah. I'll take the lead." Then he walked off, not looking back or waiting for Prussia.  
The kingdom stared at him for a few seconds longer, frozen where he stood, his mind reeling. He had waited hundreds of year to go to a place as dangerous as this? _Something must be seriously wrong with me._ Then he stammered quickly: "Y-yes, you do that. I'll... I'll just... follow, I think." Then he ran after the boy to catch up with him. Despite what he'd just told Prussia, America was walking confidently, and Prussia was beginning to wonder if he had lied just to be allowed to take the lead for once. That was, until Prussia heard rattling and hissing coming from some bushes, and spotted a dark shadow slithering through the grass just feet away from them. Trying not to be too obvious, he walked a little closer to America after that until they got back to the main road again.

* * *

 _17 September 1778_

 _Just a month now before I'll be on a ship back home again, and then hopefully I'll be back by the start of the next year. America has really made some great progress over the past months, and to be honest, I think I've learned a lot too._  
 _Once you get used to the idea of there being dangerous animals around all the time, this place isn't so bad. But compared to home, this place is seriously messed up. I know dogs, I know cats, I know snakes and also wolves. But giant cats, bears, many more species of poisenous snakes than I have back home, larger birds of prey, too... How do they live here, I swear!_  
 _The indians were really interesting, though. America brought me to meet a tribe a few weeks ago, I just haven't had the time to write about them before. Such interesting people. Shame that they're pagans, really. And also that they don't speak English much -America had to step in as interpretor all the time._  
 _I have joined a battle or two, but mostly I've just been helping Von Steuben and the rest._  
 _Oh well, the Awesome Me is ready to go home again. Old man Fritz is still waiting or me at home, after all. I really miss him._

Prussia sighed, standing just outside the camp he and America were at right now. The only other people around were the men assigned to be on guard for the night. Once again he couldn't sleep; it had happened a few times that year. Sometimes it was about worry for Fritz, whether the old man was still alive or not, sometimes it was for stupid reasons like trying to think of a training program for the next day and getting carried away. And, sometimes, it was because of the gunshots and canonfire he'd heard the day before.  
Maybe it was time to admit, after all these years of denial... he was scared of those things. It wasn't bad, they simply got him a bit jumpy sometimes. And kept him awake at night.  
"What's wrong with swords and bows?" he muttered to himself under his breath, looking at the moon and the stars through the treetops. "They've worked just fine for hundreds of years." And they didn't make that hellish noise. Much better indeed.  
But then he just looked up at the moon in silence, and eventually he smiled. This was the kind of night where Fritz liked to take Prussia outside and they would just sit and play the flute together -after the Seven Years' War, the old man had spent some time teaching Prussia how to play his favourite instrument, and the kingdom had become quite good at it, though no one could beat Fritz in his eyes. Also, he would never ever let anybody know about his new hobby. It just went completely against the image everyone had of him.  
But that, sitting outside and playing the flute, was exactly what he had come to do. Silently he sat down on the grass and grabbed his flute from under his coat, bringing the instrument to his lips. Seconds later, a slow, calm tune came out of it, one of Fritz's favourites, and for that reason it was Prussia's own favourite, too. For a moment he could imagine being back home with his dear friend, or maybe that Fritz was here with him.  
Then when that tune was done, he went on to playing a piece he'd heard only on piano before, but he had found the sheets for it in his library and figured out how to play it on the flute instead. It was one that Brandenburg used to play. _You would've loved it here, Brand,_ he told her in silence. _For all it's dangers and the war currently raging here, this land it beautiful. I wish I could show it to you._ He felt choked up for only a moment thinking about her, then realised she was probably with him all the time, laughing as he gave America the same soldier treatment he had given her all those years ago, scolding him for not being careful out in the sun all the time, everything she used to do and more. _I wish we could've traveled more, you and I. I never did get to take you to my old home in the Levant._ But then, the places he used to go probably didn't exist anymore. This was truly his first time out of Europe since his first decades of life; he had no idea how much had changed in the land he had once called his home.  
By the time he finished playing this piece, there were silent tears going down his face, and he put his flute aside for just a moment. The world was changing so quickly. Back when he was little he could've never imagined his life would turn out like this: that he would have to fight for every scrap of succes he got, that he would one day fear battles simply for the noise they made nowadays, that he would get someone like Brandenburg or Fritz, and that he would end up losing them all again.  
But in spite of all his losses, he had won. Somehow he had managed to find a way to thrive in this world, between all the changes time brought to his life. And he was happy now. Somehow he really, truly was. Fritz had taught him what Brandenburg never had: one day, he would have to let go of everything. Nothing could stay the same for all eternity, no matter how much he wanted it to. Everything changed, and that included which people were around him in life.  
And for every friend he lost, he would find a new one again, someday. They would never be replacements, but they would make life bearable.  
"Hey, Prussia."  
And maybe, just maybe, he could add this little American bugger to the list.  
Quickly, Prussia wiped away the few tears that were left in his eyes and turned around. America came up behind him, half asleep. "What're you doing here so late?" the boy asked, sitting down beside Prussia, slumped over. Prussia almost thought he would fall asleep right then and there again.  
The kingdom just shrugged. "Thinking. Playing the flute. Just... stuff."  
"You play the flute?" America then asked, more awake already. "Wait, you mean, that music I heard was yours? But it was really good!"  
Prussia smirked at him, his red eyes looking silver and blue in the moonlight. "Just that I'm a soldier and a knight and all those things, doesn't mean that I can't be a musician too! Kid, I'm awesome like that, deal with it."  
"But then, you _do_ play sometimes," America concluded happily, smiling wide. "Maybe not exactly the way I meant, but it's relaxation I suppose. Good. No one is a war machine, you should take your time to do other stuff too." He then looked up at the moon just like Prussia had done, and sighed. "I wish I could do other stuff than fighting this war again... I want it to be over. I never wanted to have to fight England..."  
Prussia narrowed his eyes at this, slightly confused. "But he's not treating you as well as you deserve, right?" he asked softly. "He's taxing everything too high, he's oppressive, the list goes on and on."  
"But he's still my dad, in a way," America replied softly, regret mingling with other emotions in his voice. "He found me, he fought for me, then he raised me and taught me almost everything I know. He gave me a family, he gave me a home. I know that I need to do this for my people, but I think... I'm really hurting him by going against him like this." He narrowed his eyes, looking more sad than Prussia had ever seen him before. "If it were just me," he concluded with a soft sigh, "then I would've put up with everything. I would've stayed with him. But I have people I need to think about."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment longer, not sure how to respond. He wanted to say _something_ to cheer this boy up -America had been so cheerful all year already, he didn't like seeing him this down. He looked like a whole other person for a moment. "That's life, kid," he said softly then, barely louder than a whisper. "Things change. I'm sure England will understand one day, don't worry about that. I was just thinking about this myself, you know... Change can be really difficult." He fell silent then, wondering whether he should say any more than this, but eventually he just went with 'yes'. "I've been unable to cope with certain changes in my own life for a long time, myself... But I got over it. So will you."  
America only smiled and didn't say anything. Prussia, getting sick of the silence after a little while, decided to play one more piece on his flute, and America seemed to relax completely at hearing this calm music. Then, when the Prussian was done, he sighed and lay down in the cool grass on his back, eyes closed. "You know what, Prussia?" he whispered, sounding sleepy. "You're a bastard sometimes. More often than not, I get the urge to shoot you in the mouth during training -the insults are getting really annoying by now." Prussia was just about to say something back, but America was faster. "But you're actually a really kind person. Arrogant as fuck, but really... really nice, too." He turned onto his side, and Prussia thought for a moment that he had already fallen asleep again, but then he said one more thing before that happened which warmed to Prussian's heart. "I'm glad I got to meet you."  
"Same here, kid," Prussia replied softly. But America was already snoring softly, and he wondered for a moment whether the boy had actually heard him.

* * *

Months later, back home in Sanssouci, Prussia ran up to Fritz the moment he saw the old man again, and swung his arms around him without paying any mind to the people that were around them. Stunned for a moment at first, Fritz hugged him back, smiling.  
"How has the past year been for you, boy?" he asked softly.  
Prussia didn't answer. Instead he held him a little tighter, whispering: "Thank you so much for letting me go there." He would be forever grateful for his experiences over the past year, getting to meet America, seeing parts of the world he had only ever dreamt of before. It had been everything he had hoped for and more.  
For Fritz, this was enough of an answer. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, my dear. And as you can see, I kept my promise: I'm not going anywhere yet anytime soon."  
"I love you, Fritz."  
"...I love you too, Prussia. I'm glad you're home again."

* * *

 **So yeah, maybe the ending had a bit of a sad undertone, but you know me. I'm sorry, it's just how I write.**

 **Well, I hope you all liked America! I was going to include this once scene in which they got in trouble with a bear, but that would've made it too long. Maybe a one-shot someday? 'Prussia and America's adventures in the wilderness'?  
Hm. Maybe. Maybe not XD**

 **I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading again!**


	44. Chapter 44

**Okay, I'll apologise once again. Next one won't be sad anymore. (At least you got America, right, to break the stream of sadness for a moment?)**

 **TheOldKaiser, pinkdoughnuts, MissiriKoharehn and guest, thanks for the reviews! Uhm, noooo, I haven't heard the songs from the musical Hamilton _at all_ (*guilty*)... (*has only been working on a storyboard for a Prussia video with one of the songs or something*)  
Nope. Not at all.  
(*wishing it were possible to see it in the Netherlands*)  
(*desperately so*)**

 _ **Anyway...**_ **also a thank-you to Jodasgreat and MayAnny for the follow and favourite!  
And again my apologies.  
I'll stop now.**

* * *

 _3 June 1786_

 _I'm getting worried about Fritz. His health has been on the decline and he has started to seclude himself from others, even me. I think he is preparing himself for the end._  
 _Somehow that thought hurts less than I thought it would. Maybe it's because he's so old, he has already surpassed all my expectations. We've both been expecting this moment for a long, long time now, never really talking about it but silently agreeing that it wouldn't be long anymore now._  
 _This time I think we may be right._

 _Oh Fritz, my dearest friend... you've given me almost as many years as Brandenburg has, and I cannot thank you enough for that. You and her. You've been the two most important people in my life in every way. She freed me from Poland. Together we became a kingdom. You, Fritz, you brought that kingdom to greatness. No matter what you may say and think, my friend, you have deserved the name Frederick the Great a million times over._

 _Now you deserve your rest. When the time comes, I pray for you that it comes peacefully._  
 _Thank you for 74 years of friendship, love and trust. You gave me more than I could ever ask for. I just wish I could've given you more._  
 _Veuillez pardonne-moi mon cher Fritz, je n'ai fait tout que j'aurais pu pour toi..._

At the start of July that year, Holy Rome arrived at Sanssouci, to stay there with Prussia for a few months. Neither had said anything to him about it, but Prussia guessed Fritz had invited the little empire over, maybe even begged him to come, so that Prussia would not have to be alone when he... went. In similar silence to theirs, the kingdom appreciated the gesture. Everyday he would spend time with the old king, thinking it might be the last chance he had to do so. But everyday Holy Rome would usher him away from the dying human and would distract him with talking, taking strolls with his little brother. Once or twice he had even sparred with Prussia, play-fighting like they used to back when they were little. If he ever had, Holy Rome stood no chance against Prussia anymore now, and the kingdom quickly got tired of it all, saying he didn't want to beat him all the time as it was no fun. In truth, he just hated knowing why he won all the time: Holy Rome wasn't as strong as he used to be anymore.  
Almost every day, Prussia would scold Fritz for still getting up as early as he did, telling him that he needed more rest. But Fritz always replied that he would get all the rest he needed soon enough. Only once had those words brought silent tears to Prussia's eyes, knowing the old man was right, and Fritz had immediately apologised for saying that. Prussia had simply held him then, completely silent, and that had been enough for both of them.  
And whenever Prussia managed to get rid of Holy Rome's pesky interference, well-meant as it all was, he would join Fritz in the old man's study and dig up old memories with him; it was one of the few things Fritz did not send him away for. They spoke of Fritz's childhood (though that topic was one they rarely discussed, seeing as it hadn't been their favourite period for both of them) and Prussia told him stories of his own childhood, and sometimes they spoke of the wars they had fought together, though that too was a topic rather avoided. They talked about the many books they had read together over the years, their favourite philosophers (Fritz still went on and on about Voltaire, asking more than once why Prussia had never liked the man much, only to conclude that the kingdom had been quite a bit jealous of the Frenchman for all the time Fritz had spent with him -which Prussia fiercely denied, naturally). And then they also talked about the more 'goofy things' they had done in life; once, Fritz had decided to visit the Elisenbrunnen and the other natural hot springs in the city of Aachen, and had taken Prussia along with him. As he did so often, Prussia had managed to turn what could have been a relaxed day at the hot springs into an awkward mess, embarassing Fritz as always.  
They soon concluded that the 'goofy things in life' was just another way of saying 'Prussia's public screw-ups'.  
And then, a favourite way to spend time together now for them both, was Prussia giving the old man little private concerts with his flute. Once, Prussia had played a random piece, making it all up along the way, and Fritz had liked it so much he had begun writing it down halfway through; now they had a half-finished song, and they spent some evenings together trying to figure out what the beginning of it had been. However much they tried, though, it never did turn out quite as it had been.

* * *

One evening, Holy Rome found himself alone with Fritz. It seemed like the old king had taken advantage of Prussia's absence first chance he got -the kingdom was away to run a few small errands for his friend and there was no way he would be back before midnight- and had called for the empire immediately.  
Holy Rome was still trying to figure out why it hurt him to see this man in his current state, old and frail; was it because he had known him for so many years himself, or was it simply because he knew how much this particular human meant to his younger brother, and that he had a pretty good guess of what would come after Fritz's death? It was probably the latter, maybe a combination of both. Most of all though, it was probably knowing that the loss of this dear old friend wouldn't be the last major loss for Prussia.  
Fritz sat in his armchair in his study when Holy Rome came in, a place where the man liked to sit a lot these days. He greeted the empire quickly then quietly beckoned for him to sit down somewhere too. "Holy Rome," the old man began softly, his voice strained. "I must thank you again for coming all this way for Prussia's sake."  
Holy Rome only dipped his head politely and replied: "Naturally, Your Majesty. I know that he will need help to get through all this. As his brother, it's only natural that I would be willing to help him now."  
Fritz nodded and sighed. "Yes, he will certainly need help. He will need distraction, but above all, please try to get him to talk: talking has always been the most difficult but also most vital part in recovery for him." He cracked a small, slightly sad smile, but an amused and happy one at the same time. "Personally, I usually managed by guessing his feelings out loud to him, and whether or not he would reply with words, his expression always gave away the answer." Holy Rome nodded, silently taking in the advice. He had never thought about it before, but he knew what Fritz meant by saying Prussia's expressions gave him away. "He has made such progress after the Seven Years' War," the old king went on, sounding tired all of a sudden. "The last thing I want is for him to fall back into the state he was in before that. How much have you heard of his... his 'threats' toward the world?"  
Holy Rome was quiet for a moment, narrowing his eyes in thought and, most of all, worry. "A fair bit," he admitted. "Saxony still can never keep his mouth shut, and this time I'm glad he didn't. I understand where Prussia's coming from, but I really do hope that was just a spur of the moment thing."  
"It was not," Fritz replied with a deep sigh. "He would mention it once in a while for years and years. It has been a while since I last heard him talk about it -at least a decade ago- but I'm afraid the idea has only moved to the background and not vanished completely. And with me gone soon, that makes for one less person he trusts enough to vent his anger and pain... I'm afraid he'll start to bottle it all up until it really comes to something as horrible as what he threatened to do back then."  
A silence fell in the room then, heavy and uncomfortable, and Holy Rome couldn't stand it anymore after a minute. "Prussia usually does bottle up his feelings and conceals them with his arrogance," he mused, half to himself. "There are times when his revenge comes sooner than that, though. I remember only one time when he didn't even give himself the time to grieve before taking revenge for something -namely, he killed Bavaria right after she, presumably accidentally, killed Brandenburg." The little empire was quiet again after that, waiting for Fritz's reaction; to his surprise, the old man said he already knew about that -though he hadn't known whom Prussia had killed exactly. "Well," Holy Rome went on quietly, "that makes you one of three people alive who know about this -including Prussia himself. I intend to take this knowledge to my grave, for Prussia's sake, and I trust so will you."  
Fritz nodded and smiled, answering that, of course, he would. But then his expression turned into one of confusion and worry. "But, a secret you will 'take to your grave'...? I was under the impression you-"  
"I am in the same position you are in, Your Majesty," Holy Rome interrupted the old man, shaking his head slowly. "I'm hardly immortal. None of us truly are. I can feel the end nearing just like you do now, only I've been doing so for decades, well over a century to be more precise, and will probably continue to do so for more years to come yet. A nation's death is either very slow, or very sudden. Germania had been on the decline for centuries. I pray that I will not have to wait as long as he did." Finally saying these words to someone other than Austria gave Holy Rome mixed feelings; it was a relieving thing not to have to carry this around all on his own, even though he knew that most of his family was aware of this fact. It was just that no one ever really talked about it. But on the other hand, saying it at this moment to this person brought a cold to his heart that chilled him to the core of his very being. "It only makes me more worried about Prussia, though," he confessed in a whisper, feeling choked up for a moment with pity for his little brother. "Let's face it: aside from you and me, Fritz, is there anyone alive who loves him and cares about him?"  
The silence that fell after that question was unbearable, more so than the one before, but it lasted much longer too. And they both knew the answer to it would be even worse if spoken aloud: there was simply no one. Saxony's relationship with Prussia had been shattered over the course of the three Silesian Wars, the same wars had created a rift between Prussia and Hungary and had finally set Austria against his cousin, too, after the archduchy had spent so long trying to forgive everything Prussia did, on Holy Rome's request. Holy Rome doubted Prussia wanted to have anything to do with France after the Seven Years' War, and the friendship between him and Scotland, and maybe some of the other British Isles too, that could have been, had also become but a hopeless dream after the United Kingdom's 'betrayal' near the end of the war. Prussia would need more time to forgive them and open up again than this. And America, of whom Prussia spoke fondly sometimes despite the complaints about his occassional uselessness, was too far away to really make a difference.  
In short, Prussia had managed to destroy every good relationship he'd once had in his desperate attempt to gain acceptance from others. The sheer bitter irony of it simply broke Holy Rome's heart. Prussia got the respect he wanted and, truth be told, _deserved_ , but he had lost the love and friendship he so desperately needed. And now, the only two people left alive who really did care about him were both dying in the near future.  
"I am still trying to convince Austria and Hungary to give him another chance," Holy Rome sighed. "But so far my efforts have been fruitless. Frankly, I cannot even blame Austria; he has done as I asked for so long and just put up with everything Prussia did. Oh, he would rant about Prussia once he was gone again, trust me. He would wish all sorts of horrible things upon him, and I honestly cannot blame him for it. He's done now, he just can't do it anymore. Hungary..." He sighed once again, holding his face in his hands, feeling utterly helpless for a moment. "She loves Austria and wants to defend him. I also cannot really blame her for that. She seems to be cooling down a little when it comes to her hating Prussia so much as she did for some time. But still, I doubt I can manage to set things right between them before my time is up. Saxony has all the right to be angry. I don't know who to turn to if I want to find someone to look after Prussia once you and I are gone."  
Fritz had still been quiet all the time Holy Rome had been talking, and he remained so for a minute or two after the empire was finished. When he did speak again, his voice croaked with sadness, and Holy Rome could see tears shimmering in his eyes. "I looked up to him when I was little," he said softly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing. "I thought he was invincible, unbreakable. I was too young to see that he was already broken. But he kept on going, and kept on going... never gave up. I admired that about him later on in my life, and I still do, more than words can describe. When I finally did see what lay beneath his seemingly unbreakable exterior, I didn't look up to him anymore despite that admiration: I only pitied him. By studying the historybooks, one can only come to the conclusion that the life of a nation is always, without fail, a life of misfortune and pain and hardships. But no book will ever be able to illustrate the pain Prussia has had to suffer in his life. The only thing about my own impending death that hurts me, is knowing he cannot join me in death, not for centuries to come at least. I'm sure that, once or twice at least, Prussia has probably hoped he really _would_ die during the Seven Years' War, just to know it would all be over." He finished with a deep sigh. "Sometimes I hoped the same thing, for his sake." He ended in a cough, and Holy Rome could see a faint trace of blood on his lips once the fit passed. The old king only brushed his fingertips against his lips, looking at the blood with a tiny, sad smile -but also a relieved one. "Not long now..."  
Feeling shaky after seeing this, Holy Rome got up and was about to walk over to Fritz. "Your Majesty," he said in a sharp whisper, more out of shock than anything else. "You should rest, Fritz, please."  
The old man only nodded. "I will, I will have all the time in the world to rest soon enough. Please now, Holy Rome, Prussia should be back soon; I would like it if you were there when he came back. I'm certain he'll want to see me before going to bed himself, so please tell him beforehand that I'm tired -he won't stay too long that way."  
Holy Rome stared at him a moment longer, then nodded and silently went away to do as Fritz had asked.

* * *

"Thank you so much for everything, Fritz. Words honestly cannot describe how much you mean to me."  
"I should be the one thanking you, Prussia. You have made my life bearable. Enjoyable."  
The words Prussia had shared with his dear friend the evening before still echoed in his head as he woke up the next morning, drowsily stretching and turning around again, not wanting to wake up quite yet. This dream he had, him and Fritz getting into trouble again back in the day when the king had still been a prince, was one he didn't want to end yet.  
But he noticed someone sitting beside him on his bed, and he could practically feel the other person's stare in his back, and it was just too uncomfortable to sleep with. So with a yawn, he rolled over again and blinked open his eyes. The kingdom was greeted by the sight of his brother sitting beside him, staring down at him with a soft blue gaze. But there was something in his eyes that made Prussia's heart quicken, and the albino sat up almost immediately, unable to say anything.  
It was hardly a surprise anymore when Holy Rome sighed and told him softly: "Prussia, I'm so sorry... He passed away last night."  
The explosion of emotion in Prussia's mind and heart momentarily brought him back to a an abandoned battlefield, corpses all around him, a lifeless girl in his arms, her voice still echoing in his head. And just like back then, all the pain, his feelings altogether, faded just as quickly as they had come. But unlike back then, a sense of calm settled over him this time, a strange but comforting warmth, gratitude...  
His dearest friend in the world was in a peaceful, warm, safe place now, restored to what he once used to be before becoming frail and sick and old. He couldn't be more thankful for that.  
Prussia could see the anxiety in Holy Rome's gaze and worry, but the young kingdom only sighed and nodded. "I see... Thanks for telling me. Has he been moved already, or...?"  
Holy Rome shook his head. "You can still see him, if you want," he answered hoarsely, sounding a bit confused. His blue gaze trailed on Prussia a moment longer, and then he shook his head again, though this time in that same confusion rather than an answer to a question. "Are you... are you all right, Prussia?" he asked then, inching closer to his younger brother. He looked even more worried than before now. "I thought this news would... affect you more, I think?"  
Prussia blinked at him, then nodded and sighed, still feeling a bit numb, but completely different than back when Brandenburg had died -and frankly, he had thought it would be more similar to his reaction back then, too. "Yes, well, I've been expecting this for weeks now. It doesn't hurt any less, at least I don't think so... I'm not sure _what_ I'm feeling right now, if anything at all, really. But it's... it's easier when you see it coming." He looked back at Holy Rome now, meeting his gaze. When he saw that the worry in the little empire's eyes hadn't faded yet, he forced a reassuring smile onto his face. "Don't worry, Holy Rome; she went so suddenly and without warning, but I have been expecting him to go for years now, to be honest. I was prepared this time. It won't be like it was in '04 again, I promise. _I_ won't be like that again."  
Holy Rome still didn't look too convinced, but he just nodded. "If you say so. But if you need me, I'm here, all right? Don't forget that."  
Prussia only flashed him a smile again and got up to get dressed. Despite his words, he still thought the whole situation felt a bit surreal, like a dream. Maybe it would sink in a bit once he actually saw Fritz now. Maybe his emotions would come back then, maybe they would stay away. He had no idea, but he wanted to see his beloved friend, his favourite king, one last time now.  
Holy Rome led him to Fritz's study, where the old man sat in his armchair like he was only taking a nap. But Fritz never took naps; he slept only a few hours a night, after all, and never during the day. And he was just too still to be asleep. Prussia immediately noticed that his position had already been altered a bit, his hair and clothes straightened out, his eyes and mouth closed if either had been even slightly open when he died. A fresh wave of grief washed over Prussia when he saw Fritz like this, but again it disappeared, leaving behind a nothingness. And that nothingness, Prussia decided, felt secure right now. _Let it stay._  
With a soft sigh he knelt down in front of Fritz, laid his hand on his cold cheek, carefully tracing the wrinkles under his eyes with his thumb. Then he reached out and lightly kissed his cheek, not moving away quite yet afterward. "I hope you've found Voltaire already," he whispered to his friend. "At least he's someone who can keep you company for the next few centuries until you've got me again. I will see you again, my dear, no matter how long it might take for me to get where you are now. By that time I'll have plenty of stories to tell you, I promise." _You always did like the stories I told you, of the ages before you were born._  
Then he got up again and took a few steps back, not taking his eyes off Fritz yet. After a little while, he smiled. "Hey, Brand," he said in a soft voice, "you can finally meet my buddy now: he's as awesome as you and I are, you'll like him for sure. Take care of him now, please."  
When he turned around a minute later, he saw Holy Rome waiting in the doorway as he had been since the moment they got here, but his eyes were glazed over as he looked at Prussia, and a few heartbeats later, he quickly wiped away a few tears that were threatening to fall. Prussia only smiled at him for this at first, then asked softly: "Hey, what's this? Are you getting more emotional over this now than me?"  
Holy Rome shook his head. "Not _this_ per se," he answered softly. "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be," Prussia replied, moving over his way. "I'm going into the gardens for a bit, if you don't mind. And if you're going to follow me there -and I know you are- then please just... wait a little while before doing so. I want some time alone first." The little empire didn't try to stop him when he walked past, and promised him softly that he would give him all the time he needed if that was what he wanted right now.

Once outside, Prussia went to sit on the side of the fountain, looking up at the milky sky. It was still so early, he doubted many people were awake already. It was unique for himself to be awake at this time, really; he liked sleeping in whenever he got the chance maybe a tad too much. What polar opposites he and Fritz were when it came to sleeping, really: the old man thought sleep was a waste of time, Prussia thought it was one of the greatest joys in life. The kingdom chuckled at that thought. He and Fritz had been so different in so many ways, but somehow they had gotten along better than any two people ever had before for all Prussia knew.  
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, smiling. "Well, Fritz," he whispered to the skies, "you get to go on an adventure that might be thousands of years away for me yet. Have fun, and tell me about it if you get the chance." He sat there for a little while longer, just him and his thoughts, and gradually the sadness began to sink in, grief taking over his mind bit by bit. After a few minutes of that, he reached into his pockets and got out a cigar just like the one Scotland had once given him -these were the best, after all- and a matchbox. The numbing effect wouldn't be enough to bring him back to that delightful nothingness, but a little bit would be enough right now. He didn't mind feeling stuff, but he'd rather not feel _this_ much quite yet. _"Prussia, you stubborn fool,"_ Fritz's voice suddenly echoed in his mind, and he froze, just before lighting one of his matches. _"Now what have I been telling you nearly all my life? Don't run away from your feelings, you won't escape them anyway."_  
"I'm not running away," Prussia grumbled back, tears welling up in his eyes and his chest getting that unfortunately familiar sensation of tightness again, a certain pressure from the inside, making it difficult to breathe. Then he just lit the match, followed by his cigar, and he carefully breathed in that lovely yet sickening smoke before speaking again. "I'm just kindly telling my feelings to slow down a bit, is all. You can't blame me for that." _"You bet I can."_ "Ah, shut up, old man." Then the Prussian flopped down onto his back, staring up at the clouds, breathing out his own little clouds every now and then and watching them lazily float up.  
It still surprised him how everything in the world remained so calm, so _the same_ , when his life had just been turned upside-down once again.  
Most of all it surprised him how calm he was himself.  
 _"That's because you're shutting down again,"_ his internal Fritz told him again, and Prussia narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He knew this was probably only his own subconscious mind telling him all this in Fritz's voice and words that he might've used, but for now, he just thought the king was being really meddlesome even in death. _"Holy Rome is here for a reason, Prussia. Talk."_ "I will, I will!" Prussia muttered back then, turning over onto his side. "Sheesh. Get off my back, old man. I will do your stupid talking-thing in a bit, just... give me some time to be awesome first." _"You know what would be really awesome, Prussia? If you accepted your own emotions as well as you've accepted my passing just now. Accept them, feel them, then let them out."_ Prussia only gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, feeling more tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he was fighting them back. He didn't want to have to deal with this, not now, not yet. And besides, he couldn't think of any nation who had cried over one of their leaders' deaths -nation and leader generally weren't _that_ close. Well, given, _someone_ probably had before him, but still. _"Still what? You think that gives you a reason to fight back your emotions? Come on, Prussia, you're a smart kid. You know better than that."_ Prussia clenched his jaws more tightly, curling up a bit, then angrily tossed his still smoking cigar into the fountain. At this rate it would burn up before he could stand to fill his lungs with its sweet, numbing poison again, anyway. _"You're nearly there now, Prussia, keep going."_ But Prussia shook his head and curled up further, a giant lump in his throat slowly choking him by now and tears dripping onto the stone he lay on. But the next words his own little mind-Fritz spoke next rendered all his efforts completely useless. _"My dear boy, stop fighting; you have fought enough battles in your life, don't force yourself into any unnecessary ones. You know I hate to see you get hurt."_  
That was when a sob broke over his lips, the first of many. He still tried to fight back at first, but soon gave up; it was an unstoppable stream of whimpers and sobs, his tears coming in a seemingly ceaseless tide. He was thankful to be alone at that moment, but when he felt a hand being laid gently on his head and softly stroking his hair in a comforting gesture, he wasted no time to sit up and swing his arms around his brother. Holy Rome just held him silently, and when Prussia let go of him and lay down again, he just moved his younger brother's head onto his lap instead, running his fingers through his white hair in a soothing rythm. Prussia felt like his crying went on for ages, but figured it had instead only been minutes before he became quiet again. But even then, he didn't move from where he lay; for just a moment, he could forget the fact that, technically, _he_ was the big brother now, and could simply seek comfort with Holy Rome like he had done only few times even when he was little.  
"You've lost enough in your life already," Holy Rome eventually mumbled to him, sighing softly. "But Prussia, just remember that life will always go on; you will lose much more in your life and none of it will be easy, but so long as you survive, life goes on. And you're a survivor if I've ever seen one." He was quiet for a moment, his words having the time to sink in. This was much more soothing than that damned cigar had been, or trying not to feel in general. _You were right, Fritz._ His brother knew exactly what words to say. _"I always am, you know that."_ He could feel Holy Rome breathe in deeply, then exhale slowly. "I wonder if the world will ever be able to see through the masks you so like to wear. Will they ever know what you've been through? What I find most impressive about you, Prussia, is how you always try to find the bright side of life again. It may take you a while, sometimes it may seem like you'll never get there, but you do. You always do."  
Prussia nodded slowly, leaning in closer to his older brother, and sighed deeply. "The bright side now," he mumbled as he closed his eyes, "is that, though Brand may not be here anymore and now Fritz is gone too, you're still here. I still have you." He then rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes again, looking up at the blonde empire and smiling. "We've fallen out so many times, but you're still my brother. The first family I've ever had, and still my closest. My awesome big brother."  
Holy Rome's eyes became glassy again while Prussia was telling him this, and the albino could see that he was biting the inside of his lip. But still, he only nodded. "Yes," he choked out hoarsely, closing his eyes but unable to block his tears. "You still have me."  
 _"The bright side now, Prussia... is that you'll have even more time to prepare for it the next time around."_  
Prussia only smiled sadly. _Yes,_ he answered in silence. _I do._

* * *

 **Oooookay... I'll stop with the sadness again.  
For now.**

 **Anyways, last week in school coming up, so I'll have more time to write after that (and work on that Prussia video I mentioned, because I love this storyboard much more than I did the entire Dr Horrible/Prussia thing. This one _will_ be made).**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	45. Chapter 45

**Summer holidays have finally started! Which means I've also started working on that Prussia vid.  
God it's going to be a lot of work... But it'll be worth it. I'll post a link here or on my profile when it's done.**

 **A thank-you to pinkdoughnuts, TheOldKaiser, Moonshine-Aqua, ABCSonicKirbyWarriors and Guest for the reviews.  
Yes, TheOldKaiser, this review was well-written again, too ^u^  
And since two people asked about which song I'm going to use for that video, here are the (slightly altered in that I've changed names) lyrics as a hint:  
 _Prussia faces an endless uphill climb. He has something to prove, he has nothing to lose. Prussia's pace is relentless, he wastes no time.  
_ _What is it like in his shoes?  
_ _Prussia doesn't hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. He just takes and he takes and he takes. And he keeps winning anyway; he changes the game, plays and he raises the stakes. And if there's a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive..._  
Well, that should be enough of a hint, no?  
(You see it too, right? That song was made not only for Burr, also for Prussia (even though this particular part is about Hamilton, but oh well...)  
(I killed myself with associating the part 'and if there's a reason I'm still alive when everyone who loves me has died' with Prussia... oh dear lord the feels when I heard that part of the song...)**

 **So now you know. And if not, well, there's _only_ 46 songs in the musical, good luck finding these lyrics somewhere in there ;)**

* * *

"Beautiful as always, dear. I could listen to this all night."  
Soft laughter. "We'll see about that. I'm sure you'll get bored of it at some point, also as always."  
The sweetness of it was almost enough to make Prussia gag, but he kept walking. He had gone all this way, he had taken the trouble to break in here, he wouldn't let a single lovey-dovey conversation stand in his way now. So as he waited around the corner to the piano room, he took a deep breath, then walked in as if there was nothing strange going on, with his chin up.  
Almost immediately Hungary exclaimed angrily: " _Prussia!_ What are you doing here?"  
Austria turned around now, too, and Holy Rome looked up from the book he was reading as well -the latter being the only one who didn't look hostile right now, only surprised. Prussia just grinned and took a step back again. "Well, uhm... hi there, Lizzie!" He chuckled for a moment, unsure what to do. Maybe he should've gone over what to say here before he waltzed in like this. "Well, y'see... The Awesome Me needs a place to hide for a moment. I kinda... ran away from Berlin, I suppose." Neither Hungary or Austria seemed impressed yet, and looked ready to throw him out. Prussia shrugged. "I thought about going to France, but you know, the shit going on there right now with the whole revolution affair... not a good idea. Then I thought about Spain, but I would have to go through France anyway. And besides, Italy and Spain would both be too sunny."  
"In the _winter_?" Austria now demanded, raising one eyebrow, not buying it at all -and for good reason. "Spare me the nonsense, Prussia, and tell me honestly why you broke into my home like this."  
The kingdom was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, if you want honesty," he just sighed, remaining silent for a short moment before confessing: "Look, I need somewhere to _hide_ , and where better than in the capital of unawesomeness? Vienna is the _last_ place where Will would look for me." Looking from Hungary to Austria and back again, he realised he was going to be kicked out any moment now, and decided to resort to more desperate measures. Taking a deep breath, he said in the most innocent voice he could muster: " _Please?_ It'll only be... uhm... until he finds me. So I guess until the end of winter? Maybe less, maybe more. _Please?_ "  
Hungary was already clenching her hands into fists and taking a step in his direction, so Prussia took another step back. "If you think that after all you've done," she muttered, narrowing her green eyes angrily, "you can just waltz in here and ask to _hide_ away from your king here, then you're mad, Prussia. But hey, that's no news."  
Getting nervous now, Prussia just looked away for a moment. "W-well, yeah, about that... You two nearly killed me in the Seven Years' War. _Twice_."  
"Twice?"  
"Once for Kunersdorf, once for the complete and utter devastation of my land, army and economy," he explained, backed into a corner by Hungary by now and looking over her shoulder at Austria, who had asked the question. "So to be honest with you, Sissy, I think we're even now." A heartbeat later, he felt Hungary's foot collide with his precious vital regions in a manner much too similar to the Battle of Kolin, and he doubled over again like he did then, unable to make a sound for a moment.  
He heard Austria laugh at this, and Hungary grinned at him when he looked up again. " _Now_ we're even," she declared, her voice shaking with held-back laughter. "Welcome to Vienna, pretty boy. Now, every time you break rules, _this_ will be your punishment, understand? So you'd better behave yourself while you're here." She turned around to look at Austria, who was also still grinning, and asked him if he could agree to those terms.  
The aristocrat only sighed after that. "Oh, sure," he mumbled, shrugging. "Let the man stay, then. _If_ he still wants to stay after this, that is."  
Still in pain, Prussia gave him a grin and a thumbs-up for this, then limping over to where Holy Rome said. "You're too kind," he muttered as he walked, only a half lie. Then he sat down beside his older brother, who patted him on the shoulder, telling him that he would explain 'the rules' to prevent anything like this in the coming weeks.

* * *

"Prussia," Austria sighed an hour later, when the four countries left the piano room to go to bed -Holy Rome saying he was happy to share his room with Prussia- once he saw the bag the Prussian had left in the middle of the hallway an hour before. "See, now _this_ is one of those things I dislike about you. You're a messy-"  
"Hey, for the record, there's nothing 'messy' about me," Prussia muttered back, quickly picking the bag up again. "But I needed to take _some_ stuff with me, I mean, I've been away from home for a couple weeks already after all - _hey!_ "  
Hungary had snatched the bag from his hands and was looking through it. "Bread, a flask with..." She sniffed it, looking surprised. "All right, just water. And a ton of books." She smirked as she looked back up at Prussia and handed his stuff back to him. "Couldn't little nerdy boy leave without his precious books? That's cute."  
Prussia just huffed and turned around, walking over to where Holy Rome was waiting for him to take him to his chambers. "Well, I could've taken a sword, knives and a bow," he muttered. "Would you have prefered that over books, then?"  
"What, no guns?"  
" _Never_ guns." Then he caught up with his brother, turning around to look at Hungary and Austria for a moment, not sure what to say. Shuffling on his feet for a few seconds, he went over all his options right now, meanwhile thinking about how glad he was that Hungary hadn't dug deeper into his bag and found the other flask, the one with vodka in it, or his cigars, or worst of all... _his flute._ The alcohol and the cigars he could explain without too much awkwardness -just tell them he'd been spending quite some time with Scotland during the Seven Year's War and he'd be done. The flute, especially in this particular company, couldn't be explained as easily.  
"Well," he mumbled eventually, feeling awkward enough just doing that already. "I uh... I suppose I should thank you for letting me stay here, so-"  
"Yeah," Hungary sighed, rolling her eyes at him. "You definitely should."  
Prussia just gritted his teeth, annoyed already, but kept silent. If he made one wrong comment now, he would be thrown out for sure, and then he could go and find another place to hide from his king, Frederick William II (whom he just called Will, because he was getting tired of the neverending cycle of Fredericks and Frederick Williams on his throne), something he really didn't feel like doing. This was just the best spot, aside maybe from in America, but again, he would have to pass through France to get a ship there, and the revolution in France just made it that much more difficult. "Yeah, so... thank you."  
Holy Rome then yawned beside him and grabbed his hand, tugging on it. "Come on, Prussia," he said sleepily. "It's almost midnight. How you all manage to stay this awake is beyond me. We still need to get a place ready for you to sleep, too... Let's just go."  
Glad to be away from Austria and Hungary now, Prussia followed Holy Rome to his room, silent. It was the little empire who spoke first. "Prussia, you picked the wrong spot to crash," he mumbled, sounding tired and already half asleep. "Truly the only reason they're allowing you to stay here is to have a chance to get back at you for things, mark my words. You should leave in the morning."  
Prussia only laughed at this and shook his head. "Trust me, Holy Rome," he said when he saw the empire's confused stare. "If they think they're going to give _me_ a hard time, they should think again. I'm willing to behave like a proper guest, so long as they behave like proper hosts. If I get the feeling they're keeping me here just for payback, they'll get what's coming to them." He leaned down and patted his older brother on the head when he saw the indignant blue stare the empire gave him, then told him softly: "Don't worry, I was thinking more along the lines of common mischief than doing anything really bad to them, I know better than that."  
Holy Rome was quiet for a moment longer, then yawned again and shrugged. "Well, if you say so, I won't stop you from doing that." He got one of the pillows from his bed, but before he could move that elsewhere for Prussia to sleep on, he looked up at his younger brother and asked him if he would be okay with sharing a bed with Holy Rome. Prussia only answered that the empire would mind it more than he did -"I'll end up throwing you out of the bed, trust me."  
"You know," Holy Rome just went on, placing the pillow on a couch instead. "It might even be funny to have you here for a little while. Battle of willpower. Who will be the first to drive the other nuts? It'll be interesting to see." He then looked around a little helplessly. "I don't really have anything like a second duvet... sorry."  
"No matter," Prussia answered, putting his bag down beside the couch and sitting down. "I can sleep under my coat. What do you think I've been doing before coming here? I know it's the middle of the winter, but I can manage." Holy Rome then yawned again and nodded, saying it was all right in that case. Prussia chuckled and told him to go to bed already. "Tomorrow the fun will start, trust me."

* * *

It was almost like Prussia had jinxed himself by saying that. 'The fun' started early the next morning indeed, for Hungary and Austria at least. And in truth it wasn't exactly _early_ in the morning, it was closer to noon really, but since that was the time Prussia woke up, it felt early to him.  
That he got up so late was one of the reasons for the complaints Prussia got from his hosts.  
He walked around the place a lot, trying to find his way (to the kitchen most of all) but completely lost. It was nothing like Sanssouci around here, or anywhere else he had lived for that matter. Eventually he stumbled into Hungary and Austria, who just stared at him blankly.  
"Oh, right," Hungary muttered with a sigh afterward. "I'd almost forgotten you're here now, too."  
Prussia just rolled his eyes. "Oh, great," he replied in the same tone of voice. " _You're_ both here. Wonderful way to start the day." He would've prefered Holy Rome over them so much. Hungary still managed to get his heart to skip a beat whenever he laid eyes on her, but because of the way she treated him nowadays, that love and desire was now mingled with annoyance, anger and disdain. Honestly, it felt like such a weird combination of emotions that he would sometimes wonder what would happen if he acted precisely as his heart told him to for once without any restraints. Maybe he would embrace her until she choked. Maybe he would kiss her and then bite her tongue off so that she would be silenced forever one way or the other, and of course both actions would give him the same amount of satisfaction.  
It was probably best not to dwell on his conflicted feelings too long...  
Meanwhile Austria sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in some snobby gesture of annoyance. "The sad part of it all, is that this really _is_ the start of your day," he mumbled, and Prussia got the feeling he was being given a lecture right now. "Honestly, what a waste of your time, to sleep away most of your day."  
 _I'm not going to grace this with an answer,_ the Prussian thought for a moment, getting irritated already. But of course, him being him, he could only keep that mindset up for a few seconds. _I'm going to grace this with an awesome answer._ "Well, I'm sorry for having spent the past weeks on the road," he snapped, narrowing his red eyes at the two of them. "The Awesome Me needs a certain amount of rest each night in order to maintain a maximum amount of awesomeness. Be _glad_ that I slept so long, now you get to enjoy my awesomeness to its fullest!"  
"I'm already looking forward to it," Hungary replied dryly, huffing. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying Hotel Habsburg so much, though I must inform you of one of our terms: for those who oversleep, breakfast is not included in our services." She smirked, probably thinking herself very smart for that comment, Prussia guessed.  
The albino gritted his teeth at this. "Very funny," he grumbled, feeling very much like punching the woman for her attitude. But he restrained himself, as per usual. But when Austria then casually told him that it wasn't exactly a joke, Prussia muttered a few insults and just walked away from them -they didn't even seem to care.

Half an hour later, after he had found his way back to Holy Rome's room and thus to his stuff, Prussia found himself in what appeared to be a plain sitting room, leaning back in one of the chairs with a book in his hands and a cigar between his lips -after all, if he couldn't eat, then he had to at least do _something_ to suppress his hunger, right?  
Not according to Hungary.  
She just _had_ to walk in when he'd just about managed to get absorbed into his book, and the first thing she did was yell at him. "So that foul stench was _you!_ " she exclaimed angrily, glaring at him from a distance. "By God, Prussia, since when do you-?"  
"About 30 years now or something," he answered flatly, not looking up from his book.  
"Can you _please_ do that elsewhere?" she complained. With a huff and her chin held high, she walked over to stand in front of him when the kingdom didn't react, looming over Prussia with an angry green gaze. "Prussia, the least you can do is look at me when I talk to you."  
 _Here we go,_ he thought gleefully as he tilted his head up to look at Hungary, having to fight back a smirk. Prussia stared the older kingdom in the eyes for a moment, twinkling red locking with burning green, then breathed out two lungsfull of smoke right into her face. Hungary's eyes began to water immediately and she coughed, then gritted her teeth and more or less growled at him. Prussia only raised an eyebrow at her, feigning innocence. "Sorry, you were saying...?"  
Hungary raised one hand as if she wanted to slap him in the face, but controlled herself and lowered it again seconds later. "Sometimes you are such an insufferable jerk!" she yelled at Prussia, who just sat back, laid his book aside and folded his hands together over his stomach, calmly meeting her gaze. "I really can't stand you at times, you know that?"  
"Well, I wouldn't be the only one you can't stand," he answered, shrugging. "Good to know that at least I'm not getting any special treatment around here. Let me ask you though: how many nations do you actually _like_?"  
"Austria," Hungary answered immediately. "The two Italies. Bavaria. Holy Rome. I don't mind Switzerland-"  
"It doesn't count if you 'do not mind' them, I'm asking you how many you _like_."  
She huffed. "Fine then. Bohemia, Southern Netherlands."  
"That's it?" Prussia chuckled at this and shook his head. "Wow, an astounding _seven_. I'm sure they all love you as much as you do them."  
This time, he did get a slap in his face, and he could just manage to clench his cigar between his teeth before that could be knocked to the floor; he didn't think the carpet would like to have a burning cigar thrown on it that much. "As if _you_ have so many people who give a shit about you," Hungary snapped at Prussia, probably not even knowing how much that comment hurt right now. He just kept quiet and didn't move a muscle -he didn't even _want_ her to know. "And besides," the Hungarian woman went on, "Austria loves me, and that's enough for me." She then spun around and walked away, not looking back, but before she was out of earshot she called to him one last time: "Jerk!"  
Prussia remained where he sat in silence, then sighed after a little while. "I love you too, you know..." Then he shook his head, opening his book again and continuing to read. This morning, Hungary and Austria had definitely beaten him in this little game by denying him breakfast for oversleeping. This time he decided to call it a draw: he had managed to chase Hungary away, but she had definitely hurt him just now. _2-1 for Sissy and Tomboy,_ he thought with an angry huff. _I'll end up as the winner here, wait and see._

But the day ended in a draw: Prussia had walked in on Austria playing the violin, startled his cousin by sneaking up on him which resulted in Austria snapping one of the snares on the instrument; 2-2. Then in the afternoon when he went up to Holy Rome's room to grab a cigar again, Prussia found Hungary had found them and hidden them somewhere, for which he gave her another point for annoying him like that. After that, Prussia decided to stalk the two until he got a chance to get back at them again. That chance came when they were discussing the ongoing French Revolution with their leader, someone made a mistake in what he said and Prussia corrected the man as he casually walked by in his awesome way: " _Actually,_ that's not entirely true," he'd said, catching everyone's attention. "I know that Rousseau is seen as the founder of the ideals that lay at the base of this revolution, but if you recall, it was the English philosopher Locke who first published similar ideas. Other than that you're right, though. Well, good luck anyway." After that he'd walked away, snickering to himself when he saw the looks Austria and Hungary gave him: astonishment mixed with annoyance. _I'm smarter than I might sometimes look, thank you very much,_ he told them in silence, grinning happilly. _And besides, this information is common knowledge to those who are 'refined' enough to pick up a book every now and then._ Austria loved that word, 'refined'. It's what he used to describe himself and Hungary and Holy Rome in comparison to Prussia. Well, maybe he was right about himself being all sissy and _refined_ , but Hungary? The _tomboy?_ Not in a million years.  
Needless to say, by the end of the day both parties decided to call it a tie and that a truce was probably the best way to go. Only Holy Rome seemed a little disappointed: he'd hoped he could enjoy watching the chaos unfold just a little longer. Then again, he admitted, it was probably best if it stopped before there were any actual casualties: between Hungary and Prussia, such a thing wasn't quite impossible.

* * *

Later that night, while Hungary and Austria were taking some 'much needed' time for themselves (Austria hadn't cared either way but Hungary had claimed she was getting sick of seeing Prussia's face all the time now), Holy Rome and Prussia had decided to just hole up in the older one's room again with a bottle of vodka. "The only good thing that ever came out of Russia," was Prussia's comment on that drink. Holy Rome only mumbled a soft 'amen to that' and joined his little brother in drinking. Holy Rome didn't go so far that he got drunk, and for once, neither did Prussia.  
After talking a bit, Holy Rome fumbled around under his pillows. "Prussia, I can't help but ask you -I'm sorry, by the way, but you'd made a mess of things and I wanted to put some stuff back in that bag of yours and then I spotted this..." He held up Prussia's flute, and the kingdom's heart skipped a beat. Holy Rome only smiled. "Did Fritz give it to you?"  
Prussia shook his head. "No, I... I bought it myself," he confessed, looking away, feeling awkward. "Fritz taught me how to play, though."  
"You can actually play this thing?" the little empire asked, astonished, his eyes wide and twinkling. "I would've never expected you to- Never mind, you know what I mean. Can you play me a piece?" When Prussia shook his head, he practically began to beg his younger brother, then assured him no one else was close enough to hear them anyway.  
"All right then," Prussia sighed, chuckling and taking his flute from him older brother. "Because it's you asking. There was this one song that Brandenburg used to play on her piano, sometimes on her violin too, but it's originally a piano piece." He closed his eyes, brought the instrument to his lips and began to play softly, as softly as he could without messing it up. He pictured Brandenburg sitting behind her piano as he moved his fingers over the holes of his instrument and blew air through it. He opened his eyes at one point to look at Holy Rome, who was staring at his brother in pleasant surprise, light blue eyes shining. Clearly he hadn't thought Prussia could play any instrument at all, let alone that he would play something so gentle sounding.  
When he was done, though, he got the shock of his life. He nearly jumped when he heard Austria's voice behind him. "That was really good, Prussia," the Austrian commented calmly.  
Prussia turned around to look at him, embarassed and feeling as if that one emotion was strong enough to kill him right now. His heart practically stopped when he saw Hungary beside Austria, standing in the doorway. She looked impressed, but when she saw Prussia's face again she only scowled. "So the jerk can play the flute, oh wow," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever, Roderich. Don't give him a compliment for something like _that._ "  
Austria looked like he wanted to comment on that, but Prussia was quicker this time. "Would you stop it with the complaints all the time, Lizzie?" he snapped at her, getting angry again. "All you do is complain about me and tell me what a stupid jerk I am all the time. Well, you're wrong: I'm _awesome_. Besides, we used to be friends, remember?"  
"Used to be," she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "But let's be honest now for a moment, Gil: I don't like you, you don't like me, so what's the big de-?"  
"Oh, I like you a lot," Prussia interrupted her, getting up. "You're still my first friend and my first-" _crush. But no way I'm going to say that in front of you_ _ **especially**_ _when you're standing next to your precious boyfriend._ "-nation I ever met. Much as I begin to dislike you at times, you're special to me. It would be nice if you tried to treat me as something else than complete _garbage_ sometime. Seriously, have you become immune to my awesomeness or something?"  
Hungary was silent for a little while, something flashing in her green eyes when he said that. But then she shook her head. "Ugh, _seriously_ Gil. Stop being a jerk all the time, then suddenly being nice again. You're so confusing." She looked like she was going to say more, but Prussia held up one hand to silence her, and she huffed indignantly that she was being told to shut up like that.  
"Answer one question," Prussia said, getting fed up with her now. "Did you like the music? It's the most damn simple question in the world, you can answer it with just 'yes' or 'no'. So, once again, did you like the music?"  
Hungary stared at him defiantly for a moment, then sighed and answered that yes, she did.  
"Well now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"  
Then Austria stepped forward to stand between Hungary and Prussia, who were starig each other down now. "All right, are you two done again now?" Then he turned to look at Hungary and sighed. "Sorry, Elizaveta, but I must admit that you were in the wrong here." Then he turned to Holy Rome and Prussia instead. "My apologies, Prussia, I told her not to be so..." He trailed off for a moment, then shook his head and just continued. "What we came here for, was to ask you both to come join us -it was Hungary who decided that she didn't want to see you for a little while, I do not agree."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment without blinking. Then he snorted and turned away, folding his arms over his chest. "Forget it. Holy Rome can do whatever he likes, of course, but what if _I'm_ fed up with _her_ , too?" Scowling, he looked at them over his shoulder for just a few seconds before turning away again. "Go have fun together, and _I'll_ have fun _on my own_ here. I'm too awesome for all this bullshit."  
Suddenly he felt a hand tentatively being placed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Holy Rome beside him, so he repeated himself by telling him to just go with them already and leave him alone for now. "Are you sure, Prussia?" the little empire asked him, eyes shimmering with worry for his younger brother.  
Prussia angrily huffed at this. "How many times do I have to repeat myself before you idiots get it?" he snapped, sounding angry enough apparently to make Holy Rome flinch away from him for a moment. But he didn't feel sorry about it, not at all.  
He waited until he heard them all leave and close the door behind them, and then he grabbed his flute again, staring at it in silence. _I've always been fine on my own,_ he told himself with a brisk sigh. _I never did mind being alone. After all, I always have been, haven't I? I was born alone and someday in the far future I will die alone. So why not_ _ **live**_ _alone, too?_  
"And what do you mean, I'm confusing?" he muttered out loud to Hungary, gritting his teeth. "For Heaven's sake, woman, _you're_ the confusing one! I'm seriously beginning to hate you, you know that?" He chest tightened, and it felt like he was being stabbed in his heart repeatedly, and he sighed again, longer and slower this time. "So why - _how_ \- do I still love you?" Somehow that reminded him of a Latin poem he'd read once, and he cracked a smile. " _Odi et amo,_ Lizzie. Trust me, one of these days I'll end up hurting you so badly... I wonder if I'll use fists, weapons, or just words? But I swear I'll do it. Some sweet revenge for all the painful confusion you've brought upon me over the years." Then he realised something that robbed him of his breath.  
Hungary hadn't specified in what way he was confusing to her, only that he could be a jerk one moment and the next she thought of him as kind again.  
His heart began pounding painfully fast, hopeful.  
 _What if it's in the same way I'm confused about her?_  
It made sense. Especially that she was even more hostile towards him when Austria was near -she really did love Austria, any idiot could see that much. What if it was because she was trying to prove to herself that she loved Austria _more_?  
 _I might be wrong,_ he told himself, laying down on the couch and staring at the ceiling, his chest feeling comfortably warm after the stabbing pain earlier. _I probably am wrong._ But it would be so damn awesome if he was right.  
He closed his eyes then, and he was asleep before Holy Rome got back.

* * *

After that evening, Holy Rome decided to play mediator between the two parties whenever a fight broke out between Prussia and Hungary or Austria, sometimes both at the same time. But it wasn't so bad anymore as it had been that first day, and by the end of Prussia's first week of hiding away in Vienna, the four nations sat together one evening, drinking and talking as if they were friends rather than enemies. Maybe, by some miracle, they could be.  
The next morning however, when Holy Rome told Prussia about how the kingdom had gotten himself drunk and especially about the things that happened after that, Prussia was too embarassed to show himself again that day, so he didn't -even though the rule of 'oversleeping means no breakfast' still stood.  
"Well, don't ask me how -I wasn't completely sober myself, mind you- but the conversation ended up being about Brandenburg at one point," the empire told his younger brother, who at this point could already guess what would come next. "And, well, you saw that as your cue to start talking about Fritz as well." Oh, it was getting worse with the second. "And from there on, uhm... One thing kind of led to another and you, ah... you ended up, kind of, sort of... crying."  
That he knew what was coming didn't make it any easier to hear, of course. Prussia grunted at this, pressing his face into his pillow. "I did not," he protested, though it was more like he was begging for it to be true. That particular part came a few seconds later. "Please tell me I did not. Not in front of _them._ "  
"You did. Totally."  
"...You may kill me now."  
"Nope."  
"Please."  
"No way."  
"My life is over now anyway, you might as well put a definitive end to it."  
Holy Rome sighed and chuckled at this, patting the kingdom on his back. "It's not so bad, really. In fact, I think it might even have changed their opinions of you for the better."  
At this, Prussia looked up at him again, brows furrowed in confusion. "And how would it do _that?_ " he asked, not understanding it at all. "If anything, it would make them think of me as weak."  
But Holy Rome shook his head and smiled at him warmly. "No, Prussia, it seemed to have made them think of you as more _human_. Not _human_ in the literal sense of the word, but... Oh, whatever, you know what I mean." Then he got up, not waiting for a response from Prussia, and told him to get dressed already -he had to if he wanted to be in time for breakfast. After having said that, he just walked out of the room, giving Prussia some time to let the information sink in.  
 _I will not leave this room ever again,_ the kingdom thought with a shiver going down his spine. _I'd die from sheer embarassment. No way._  
Alone again now, he decided to grab a pen, his journal, and write a bit again.

 _28 December 1791_

 _Am I glad I forgot all about yesterday's events... I'd be even more glad if they forgot about it, too._  
 _Oh well, as I said before, it's not as bad over here as I thought it would be, and 2 weeks have gone by without anyone showing up here to take me back to Berlin. Good sign, hiding in Vienna works really well._  
 _I'm pretty sure someone will end up finding me here soon though._  
 _Well, there could be worse things. I've had my time away from home, now it's time for me to be awesome again and just do my job there._  
 _I might even be awesome enough to go home of my accord in a few days._

 _Austria and Hungary have been unexpectedly awesome in allowing me to stay here all that time. Maybe they're not as bad as I thought._  
 _And that beer. That beer was really good._  
 _The effects it had... less so._

* * *

 **Okay, so Prussia got to have a little fun again. I'll do a few more chapters like this before Napoleon pops up to blow his life to smithereens again.  
Ah, his life is so wonderful.  
Just... wonderful.**

 **Okay, ehm... sorry 'bout that. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!**


	46. Chapter 46

**Well that came out surprisingly short...**

 **Thank you, pinkdoughnuts, TheOldKaiser, vaetta, Guest and Frostthewolf18 and CitizenOfHedwigpolis for the reviews, favourites and follows!  
Guest, I bought the CD ;) First on youtube though. (CD is totally worth buying, I do not regret it)**

 **Well, today (in-story) is a special day to Prussia, and there are some people who will make sure it really is special!  
I hope you'll enjoy ;)**

* * *

 _17 January 1792_

 _Spain and France came here this evening. We haven't really gotten a chance to talk yet, as I had work to do and now that I'm done it's really darn late... I should go to sleep soon. After all I need it to maintain awesomeness. I stick with what I said a month or so ago, in Vienna._  
 _It was a surprise to see them here, really. They hadn't announced that they were coming over for a visit, so..._  
 _Well, all the more awesome, right?_  
 _I'll make sure I won't have any work to do tomorrow night, and then I'll take them out to a tavern in Berlin or something. They haven't been here before, not both at the same time._  
 _Oh the mischief we'll get into. I'm looking forward to it._  
 _Now I know that I'm grounded after my fifth escape attempt (which, thanks to Austria and Hungary's generous cooperation, was a succes), but who the hell cares? I'm allowed to go into Berlin, surely. I wasn't allowed to go to Konigsberg though, not since Fritz... yeah._  
 _Will is a jerk. And he's not that good a king, either. Really, he isn't as bad as his grandfather was, but he is so desperately trying to prove that Fritz, Frederick the_ _Great_ _, was a shit king and that he can do it a lot better his own way. Yeah, good luck with that, kiddo. You're messing it up._  
 _It's no wonder I've been constantly trying to get away from him, really. Well, that, and I'm just messing with him. He's messing_ _me_ _up, I'm just doing the same to him. It's fun (until it gets me grounded like I'm a child)._

 _Right, sleep._  
 _I'll make tomorrow another awesome day!_

"Hey, kid," France began softly, in a slightly whiny tone as he leaned over Prussia's shoulder and stared at the stack of papers the kingdom was working through. "We didn't come all this way to watch you work. Can't you just quit already or what?" When Prussia only sighed in response, the older nation poked him in the shoulder and repeated himself.  
Prussia swatted France's hand away angrily, but chuckled and shook his head a few seconds later, amused. "Bugger off, I'm busy."  
Spain then joined in, leaning over the Prussian's other shoulder. " _Prussiaaaa_ ," he complained, putting on a small pout. "We don't want you to woooork all the time. We want to have fuuuuun."  
"If you keep talking like a five-year-old," Prussia warned him, nearly stabbing him in the eye by accident when he rather abruptly raised his hand with his pen between his fingers. "Sorry. But if you keep doing this, you're not getting any _fun_ , because I won't be done in time." He then scribbled down the last details he had forgotten earlier -date and such- and signed the paper he'd been working on, about to put it away.  
But then France snatched it from his hand and practically pushed it into his face. "There!" he said, pointing to the top of the page. "Right there! What does it say?"  
Not understanding what he was talking about, Prussia shrugged. "It's the date," he answered, adding when Spain gave him a meaningful look: "18 January 1792."  
"Exactly!"  
"...So?"  
Now, France and Spain both looked at him with wide eyes and a shocked stare, and he realised what they meant just before they burst out in unison: "It's your 600th birthday, you moron!"  
Immediately he cheered up. So that's why they had come all this way! It was a miracle that they had even remembered such a thing, really; his birthyear and self-picked birthday had only come up once in a conversation, years and years ago. But then his mood darkened again and he sighed, turning back to his work. "I appreciate your awesome memory," he told them, "but I have work to do and Will has already grounded me -yes, seriously, the unawesome little shit- and frankly, for once I don't want to get into more trouble."  
But of course, France and Spain did not agree to all that. Before Prussia even had a chance to dip his pen into his inkwell again, France had already snatched all his unfinished work from his desk and thrown it into the air, watching it drift onto the floor like leaves on the wind, at which Spain cheered happily: "ANARCHY!"  
Before Prussia could protest, the two had dragged him off his chair and away from his desk. The albino kingdom squirmed and struggled for only a moment, then burst out laughing as his two friends dragged him away through the halls. "All right, all right, have your little anarchy party," he choked out, eyes watering from laughing so hard as he looked up at France to his right. "Frankly, Stubble-face, I'd imagined you to be sick and tired of anarchy by now."  
"Ha-ha, funny as always," the Frenchman sighed, rolling his eyes, annoyed for only a moment. Then he ruffled Prussia's hair with his free hand. The Prussian felt him stiffen as they turned around a corner, and suddenly the two older nations stopped walking and let Prussia go again, who then scrambled to his feet after being dropped like that.  
"What is the meaning of this?" came Frederick William II's voice, accompanied by a sigh. "Prussia, this had better have a good explanation."  
His heart skipping a beat, Prussia forced a grin onto his face and his usual confidence into his voice. " _Well,_ Your Majesty, funny that you should ask," he began, standing between France and Spain and leaning on their shoulders casually. "Y'see, Willy-nilly, today happens to be the Awesome Me's birthday -the 600th to be precise, and a new century always is such a _special_ occassion- and these two idiots have decided to celebrate it by making use of the awesome and yet so annoying and for us particularly painful concept of _anarchy,_ meaning they're not allowing me to work anymore today and you can kiss their awesome asses. Is this explanation satisfactory, Your Royal Unawesomeness?"  
As Prussia was speaking, the king's face gradually became red and then a constantly darker shade of that particular colour until he resembled a tomato as much as Spain did when he was angry. The Spaniard only squealed in joy at this, and Prussia feared for a moment that his two idiot friends had been drinking already -he was probably right. "Young man, this is unacceptable!" he bellowed, looking close to exploding in rage. "I have already-!"  
"Woah, _what_ was that?" Prussia then interrupted him bluntly, a bit angry himself now, too. "Did you seriously just have the guts to call the Awesome Me _young man_? The nerve you mortals have, I swear on my awesome eagle, you're all going to drive me nuts one day! I just told you I'm _600 years old now._ Deal with it." Then he grinned, adding: "Just as you just have to _deal with the anarchy._ "  
Spain did his 'anarchy' yell again, then Spain and France quickly pulled him away again and ran off with him before the king could respond a third time. Once they got outside, Prussia was laughing too much to breathe for a moment, and the older two nations soon joined him.  
"Now what?" he choked out, wiping a few tears of laughter from his eyes. "When anyone here catches me, I'm good as dead. Thanks, you guys, really awesome."  
"To be fair," France replied, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "I think you dug your own grave more than we did. Nice little speech, _mon ami._ "  
"Wooh!" Spain laughed then, tugging on Prussia and France's arms. "All right, let's get moving before Prussia's death arrives here, then. Where are we going?"  
Prussia was silent for a moment, looking at the two of them. He hadn't really had the chance to think about any of that, since he'd been working only minutes ago. "Yesterday I thought about taking you both to a tavern," he said softly, half to himself. "But it's a bit early for that yet, isn't it?" They both agreed silently, thinking now too. Then Prussia got an idea, though it wasn't exactly for fun. _Surely they'll agree to doing this,_ he then told himself, and just decided to go for it. "Well, if you two don't mind, I'd like to go visit Fritz and Brand -it's been a while since I've been to see either of them." The way he talked about it must have been a bit unsettling to the two older nations, as they gave him a weird stare but didn't say anything. The Prussian just shrugged. "What, have you two never lost family members or friends like this or something? After a while you just say you'll drop by for a visit, instead of that you're going to their graves. Nothing weird, really."  
Still, as they followed him to the Hohenzollern family crypt, they still gave their younger friend a weird look every now and then. Prussia made his way over to Fritz's coffin in a straight line, saying a soft greeting to each and every Hohenzollern laid to rest here as he passed their coffins. For Frederick William I, he had special greetings depending on what mood he was in: in a bad mood he cursed him in every language he knew -and after 600 years on this planet, that was quite a lot- in a so-so mood he would greet him with 'good day to you, jerkface', and in a good one he would admit that 'you know, temper not accounted for, you weren't so bad... pretty great king, actually.'  
Today it was: "I'd prefer you over Will _any day_ , just so you know. At least you knew how to handle the economy and all that, and you might have hit me often, you never _grounded_ me." Then when he reached Fritz, he leaned on the coffin with his arms. "Hey there, Fritz, buddy," he began softly. "Guess what? I'm 6 centuries old now. Pretty awesome, huh? You would've turned 80 next month. But I suppose that was too much to ask for." He chuckled, imagining what the old king's answer would've been to that. He would've probably agreed eagerly -he'd already complained about his age once he got past 40. "According to these two idiots here," he added, gesturing to France and Spain, who stood at a respectful -maybe careful?- distance. "I still need to wait 400 years until I'm old enough to be an adult. But fuck that, I'm like 10 times the average age now? Haven't been keeping track, but I think 60 is between the age you died and the age your dad did? I'm an adult already, all right. Let these idiots talk, I don't care, I know I'm awesome."  
France took a step closer now, smirking at Prussia. "One way to find out," he said happilly. "Have you finally had to shave yet, or what?"  
A deep sigh. " _Yes_. And there was no need to add 'finally', you jerk."  
"Well, that was about time."  
Prussia rolled his eyes, said a quick goodbye to Fritz and the man's family members, then led Spain and France out again. "You two are such unawesome jerks sometimes, I swear," he muttered, not looking at either of them. "Well, can I finally be an adult now, then?"  
Spain only laughed at him, and France patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry, _petit garcon_ , but you're still not old enough. You'll be a little boy for another 400 years."  
"Have it your way," the albino sighed, walking out of the crypt and back into daylight. There, he stretched and took a deep breath. Nothing was better than a cold winter breeze from time to time. He'd gotten so used to colder weather back in the days that he lived in Konigsberg, he actually missed it sometimes now. Berlin could get cold, but it was still further south than his old capital. _Maybe there_ _ **is**_ _something wrong with me,_ he thought, chuckling for a moment. Then he turned to look at his two companions, telling them that they would go to Berlin to see Brandenburg now, too, and after that they would see what they would do. "I like your version of anarchy," he told them as they walked. "It's awesome and refreshing after being stuck at home. By the way, what's wrong with how I talk to the dead? I mean, it's not like I can hear them answering, so no witchcraft there."  
"Witchcraft?" France echoed, surprised and amused by it. "Who knew a child could be so old-fashioned? Ah, I forgot: you were convicted of witchcraft once, weren't you?"  
"No, I was convicted of being a demon," Prussia corrected him, laughing about it for the first time ever. "There's a difference. I still have the scars, you know? Lighter and smaller now, but still there." France made a surprised noise and softly apologised then, and Spain only asked what he'd missed; the two promised they'd tell the story some other time. "First you can answer _my_ question: why'd you both look at me like I'm weird instead of awesome?"  
They were quiet for a moment, but eventually it was Spain who answered, a little apprehensively. "Well, it's just... we're not used to it. Usually death has no real part in our lives -I mean, sure it does, but nations witness so much death we just learn to move on and we don't think much about all the dead anymore after some time."  
"That, and it's unusual for a nation to lose someone close to them," France added softly. "And with that I mean family and close friends -who are generally nations; your bond with Fritz was quite unique, closer than a human and a nation usually are."  
 _Oh, if only you knew,_ Prussia thought, but those were some words he wouldn't say out loud to these two. He'd never hear the end of it. _We've been more close than you can probably imagine for a... very brief period of time. Brief but awesome._  
"So I suppose we're not used to how you deal with the dead," Spain finished, nodding in agreement to what France had said. "We'll get used to it."  
Prussia sighed. "Yeah, about death... I get how _you_ don't get to deal with it that much, but have you been keeping track of my family over the centuries? It has kind of forced itself into my life. Makes me wonder sometimes if my entire family is cursed or something... So many of us have died -and come back, 'cept Brand because I've inherited her land after she died and Germania because we've _all_ inherited his land and then some, but I didn't know any of them personally." Then he smiled, and turned around to face them. "But then, there's life as well, isn't there? Not that I always enjoy life that much, but that's another story. I think I still enjoy life more than I would like death, so I'm fine with where I am right now."  
France and Spain looked at each other for a moment, a similar look as before in their eyes. Confused, Prussia asked what was wrong _this_ time. But then the two grinned. "Oh, it's just that we hadn't expected to see Philosopher Prussia today. Nice to see you again, it's been a while."  
Chuckling, Prussia shook his head and turned around again, walking away from them, knowing that they would follow pretty soon, if not immediately. "Honestly, why do I put up with the two of you?"  
"Why am I not stinking drunk yet, trying to get distraction from this headache called revolution and chaos?" France countered, shrugging. "Some questions have no answers, _mon ami._ "

* * *

Prussia did almost the same thing he had done with Fritz once they'd reached Brandenburg's grave; he talked to her, and meanwhile he sat down on top of her grave and plucked a few tiny weeds from the ground around him and brushed the dust off her gravestone. "Your place gets dirty so quickly, it's not normal," he sighed, shaking his head. "Honestly, Brand, I've been cleaning this and making it tidy for you for... what's it been?... 88 years now." Realisation then struck him like a lightningbolt, and he let his shoulders hang. "Wow... You've been gone longer than we were married. That's such a strange thought... But hey, I've managed all these years. Pretty awesome, huh? Well, as you can see, the kingdom's doing well, and I think I myself am doing much better lately than I have been, too... especially considering..." He smiled then, and for just one moment he could barely control himself and decided that he didn't even want to. He sat up on his knees and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the stone as if he were hugging Brandenburg herself. "You'll see, Brand," he promised her in a whisper. "If things stay as they are now, soon, we'll be able to forget all about the past century's mess. I'm doing much better now."  
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him jump. He'd almost forgotten about France and Spain being there. When he turned around, he saw Spain standing over him with a worried and sad look in his green eyes. "Ehm, Prussia, you..." he began tentatively, trailing off slowly before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, you were just freaking me out a little with all that... stuff. It's like you were talking to a person. A _living_ person."  
"Frankly, the only thing you _haven't_ done yet is kiss that stone," France added with a slight shiver in his voice. "Prussia, _mon ami_ , are you really sure you're all right?"  
Prussia was silent for a moment, looking from one to the other and back again, then got to his feet. "Of course I am," he stated determinedly. "I wouldn't lie to Brand; I'm perfectly fine. It's as I told you before, you'd understand if you were in my position. This is pretty normal, really. "  
The three of them were silent for a minute or so longer, until Prussia forced a short laugh and grabbed them both by the shoulder. "Well, would you look at that? I think the sky's changing colour -it must be evening, eh? Francy-pants, let me take a look on that awesome lil' clock you have there." He then snatched the Frenchman's pocket watch from his chest pocket and took a quick glance at it -just before 5 in the evening. "How about we go grab a bite somewhere and then head to that tavern? We'll have to make this day awesome somehow. Well, don't stare at me like that!" he added with a genuine laugh as they still looked at him like he was mad and pulled them off the cemetery. "Let's first get something to eat, as I said, and then we'll do what we do best -get stinking drunk!"  
Now, Spain nodded enthusiastically. "I can live with that!" he said with soft laughter, swinging one arms around Prussia's neck and ruffling his white hair with his other hand. "And maybe, Love and Passion here can score a _living_ girl for you to hang out with -you're not against that sort of thing, are you?"  
Prussia didn't answer and just walked down the streets of Berlin with his two friends. It might've been better to do something first that these two would enjoy, too, but he'd had a good time visiting his old friends, even if they couldn't speak back. But he would make it up to them now; he knew just the places to take them.

* * *

"Seriously, she did that sort of stuff?" Spain chuckled later that evening, as the trio sat around a table, quite drunk, in a corner in the tavern Prussia had taken them to. Prussia was telling stories about the things he and Hungary used to get up to when they were little. "Wow. I mean, she's pretty tough now, but-"  
"Yeah, she was kind of badass back then," Prussia replied, his voice a little slurred. "That day she came back after hunting, though, waving that duck around like that. Of course the blood flew in all directions, and of course she was covered in it. But somehow, even with blood on her face like that and her only grinning proudly, she was kind of cute. There must be something seriously wrong with me."  
"Nah, that's a little annoying thingy they call _love_ ," France told him with a smirk before taking a swig of his wine. "Everyone catches it sometime, you're completely healthy. Well, when it comes to this, that is. All the rest, I'm not so sure about." Snickering, he added: "But damn, _mon ami_ , you've got it real bad for that woman, don't you? I knew we should've tried helping you get her after all."  
"Hell yes!" Prussia then laughed, remembering when Spain and France, as 'Passion and Love', had promised him they would play matchmaker for him and the Hungarian. "And you never did, you damn liars! Some great friends you are, I mean, look at all that I've done for you guys already! I'm frickin' awesome as a friend, you two are just unreliable."  
"I think you've got it backwards," Spain retorted, shaking his head in an amused gesture. "But whatever, the offer still stands. We could always try, and maybe we can hook you two up before 1800."  
But Prussia shook his head and downed the rest of his beer before replying. "No, don't; she's happy with Austria -don't ask me how though- and I don't want to ruin that for her."  
This made France smile, and Spain 'awwed' at those words. "It's such a shame that she doesn't know how much you love her," he sighed, talking as if it was the best romantic tragedy he'd ever witnessed. "For a little bastard like yourself, Prussia, you have _such_ a big heart."  
Prussia only smirked and added: "I'm not ruining it for her _yet_."  
"...And there you ruined it again. Good job."  
"Well, anyway..." the Prussian then began before trailing off and yawning.  
Again, France and Spain smirked and exchanged a quick glance. "It seems it's children's bedtime, Tony," France chuckled then, looking at the tired kingdom, he only scoffed at this. "Maybe we should just finish this round and then head back, hm? Maybe his king will forgive us if we return before midnight." That said, he took a quick look on his pocket watch and paled a bit, putting it away again. "Whoops," was all he said on the matter. "Never mind, we're too late for that."  
"Oh hell no," Prussia then protested when it looked like Spain was willing to agree. "We're staying until we get kicked out, y'hear me? I don't want to go home yet. Or ever."  
"What's the deal between you and... Will?... anyway?" France asked him then, pouring himself another glass of wine -and not being too careful with it either. Spain warned him that he'd drunk more than the Spaniard by far (though no one could beat Prussia) and asked him if he wasn't worried about a hangover. France shrugged and replied that, after what he'd been through with the revolution up to this point, he could handle a little headache. Then he looked back at Prussia, waiting for an answer.  
The kingdom sighed, staring into his newly filled pint of beer sadly for a moment. "I don't know, it's just... I think I need more time to adjust to Fritz not being here anymore. And I had planned to move out of direct reach from my monarchs and live on my own after he died, but Will won't let me, and I'm still a little peeved about that. I mean, someone as awesome as me deserves the freedom to live on their own, right? Not according to him."  
"Well, you do have a duty to your people, and it's easiest to work on that when you're close to your leader," Spain told him softly, suddenly very serious. "I do understand him."  
"On another note, what was it between you and Fritz?" France added with a chuckle. "Seriously, the two of you... I've never seen anything like it!"  
Prussia nearly choked on his beer when the Frenchman asked that question, but since he had asked about it so directly, he decided to for once just answer with the truth. "Well," he began awkwardly, "let's just say we knew each other a little better than we were supposed to. For a very short while of course, when he was a teenager... or was it his early 20s? Something like that." He smirked and silently drank another few gulps of his beer. "I guess, even after that one time, it kind of stuck that we were just really, _really_ close... just not physically anymore."  
"Wow, what an eloquent way to put it," France laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "The alcohol is starting to affect your speech, I think it's time to stop. Usually you're a lot more... how should I put it..."  
"And there you go as well," Spain sighed, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, France. But hey, congrats on that," he added with a wink, turning to Prussia. "How many people can say they've slept with Frederick the Great, aside from you? And, does the title apply in the bedroom, too?"  
"You'd be surprised, actually. And... yes, pretty much."  
Now Spain laughed too, then prodded France in the side with his elbow. "You hear that? We should get this man drunk more often, he is so _talkative_ when he's had alcohol!"  
"I am?" Then he yawned again, and it was only then that Prussia noticed he sat slumped over a bit. He should've known, really; he always slept so well after some alcohol, it was probably the drinks that got him so sleepy all the time. Still, it was annoying that this was again the case, now in front of his two friends, especially considering they stuck with their joke of him being a child compared to them, and France had already made the connection between the two a little while earlier.  
Half an hour later, the trio was on their way back to the palace, and they didn't arrive there until it was nearly sunrise -they kind of made a detour without realising it at first.

* * *

"Aw, I just realised we never did get to hook you up with a nice girl for the night," Spain whined under his breath that morning, when they all lay on a bed together -France and Spain had been too tired to go to another room, and there was enough space for them all to have some private space on it, so it wasn't as big an issue as they had thought at first. That, and they were too drunk to realise the difference. "Shame."  
"I don't need some stupid girl, I'm too awesome for that bullshit," Prussia replied, rolling over and closing his eyes. "I'm perfectly awesome on my own. Don't need others."  
"Except maybe Hungary," France put in casually -somehow he managed to speak almost normally despite being as stinking drunk as the rest of them. Prussia only chuckled in response and nodded. Now, the Frenchman rolled over as well, a little closer to the younger kingdom. "Well, it may not be _before_ 1800," he told him, and Prussia could practically _hear_ him smirk, "but in early 1800 we'll get the perfect chance, what with the celebration for your brother."  
Prussia rolled onto his other side, confused, then back again quickly when he saw France just inches away from him -to his drunken mind, it had been one of the most terrifying things he'd ever seen for a heartbeat there. "What celebration?"  
"...You do realise that the Holy Roman Empire will be 1000 years old soon?" Spain asked him then, seemingly not understanding how he couldn't have realised that yet. "That sort of stuff gets a huge celebration among the upper layer of the country's people and their personal family and friends if possible. Oh, I remember my own 1000th... great stuff."  
" _Anyway,_ " France interrupted before the Spaniard could get sidetracked. "Of course Hungary will be there and so will you, and we might not be the best of friends and all that, but so will Antonio here and _moi-même_. We'll figure something out, trust me."  
The thought got Prussia's stomach churning in excitement, and he smiled. "I'll hold you to that one, Stubble-face." Then he sighed and closed his eyes, feeling ready to fall asleep now. Alcohol always did the trick with him, and if not, it probably helped that it was nearly dawn already. "By the way, since when do you call yourself Antonio?" he couldn't help but add, furrowing his brows but keeping his eyes shut tight now.  
"Some time now. Antonio Fernandez Carriede. Awesome, right?"  
"Annoying mouthfull. You'll be Tony."  
"...suit yourself."

...In hindsight, it hadn't been the excitement that had made Prussia's stomach churn, or France's or Spain's for that matter. Frederick William II decided not to do anything to punish them later that day; the hangover was punishment enough, he said.  
To them, of course, it had all been worth it.

 _19 January 1792_

 _Never again. I swear, never again._  
 _Just as I do every time I get a hangover like this and I never learn. At least I left the cigars home last night, I think even these two idiots would've scolded me for it, if only for the smell (thanks, Scotland, for introducing me to that particularly strong addiction. At least it holds no consequences to our health like it probably does to humans' -they'll find out one day, in their own time)._

 _Oh, but I swear, my head's going to explode._

 _I love their version of anarchy. Amazing stuff._

* * *

 **So he got to have some fun again! (yes, seriously, those scenes with Fritz and Brand might've been a bit sad, I don't know, but to him it was totally normal, as he said, and he had fun doing it. I swear he did.)**

 **And for once, I think France and Spain are going to keep their promise (smirk)  
So... that's it for now.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	47. Chapter 47

**I told you guys, it's summer here, and I'm likely to be faster than usual. Here's an example ^u^  
Oh well, thanks to pinkdoughtnuts for the review and c7a7t7 for the favourite! Pinkdoughtnuts, I'm glad you liked the happiness in the last chapter. And I'm sorry it couldn't last longer.**

 **Seriously, sorry.**

 **(And on a sidenote, working on the video is going well so far. It'll be a few more weeks at most, and I'll post a link here!)**

* * *

It was the year 1797, and Prussia was on his way to see Poland.  
 _Former_ Kingdom of Poland.  
He no longer existed on the map.

 _27 January 1797_

 _I reckon Poland won't want to see me after I signed that treaty yesterday. But he's had since 1795 to prepare for this day. Still, I do feel kind of bad for him; I can't imagine what it must feel like to be taken off the map.  
That, and he'll be in Russian service for the next few years.  
Right, I forgot to write that down in my earlier report of the partition: every few years we will rotate where Poland stays next (if he survives this that is, but I survived as a region long enough as well -my previous self never did become more than a region, so it must be possible) and for the first 5 years he will be with Russia, then with Austria, then me and back again. If everything goes according to plan, that is._

 _Right now I just want to apologise to him.  
I know, right? The Awesome Me, on his way to apologise to an unawesome little shit like him! But the thing is, I still spent most of my life as his fief, and wars not accounted for, he took pretty good care of his territories. And truth be told, I did start most of those wars myself.  
It's not like I don't want him gone, I do. There's been more bad moments with him than good. But just writing that down like that means that, yes, there were good times. He could sometimes have his moments of brief awesomeness, like when he tried to cheer me up after Holy Rome-  
Never mind, he took me to see my own grave then talked me into an identity crisis.  
Jerk._

Prussia didn't feel anything as he was taken to the cell where Poland was kept right now. His mind and heart were completely empty, and he wondered what emotions would fill both once he saw his old superior, his new territory. They had switched roles entirely now.  
Poland sat with his hands cuffed and tied to the wall. Prussia halted for a heartbeat when he saw this, mumbling softly: "Well that's a bit harsh, isn't it?"  
"We had to," one of the guards then told the Prussian with an exasperated sigh. "He's a kicker." The human then opened the cell and let Prussia inside wordlessly.  
Poland looked up immediately and gritted his teeth. "Have you come to gloat?" he muttered angrily, narrowing his dark green eyes in pure rage. "Get lost, you traitor."  
"Traitor?" the Prussian echoed, taken aback by that word -and the sheer stupidity of it. "What about this makes me a traitor?"  
"You were mine," Poland grumbled as he glared at the younger kingdom, seemingly willing him to disintegrate under his gaze or something like that. Hopeless. "You belonged to _me_ , goddammit, for hundreds of years! And ever since your independence from me, you, like, go behind my back and totally betray me whenever you get the chance. And here, finally, is the ultimate betrayal: _you took me off the map._ I could die and it'll be your fault, _murderer_."  
That one word sent a shiver down Prussia's spine. _You've no idea..._ But Poland's reaction angered him, too: he had walked in here completely calm, nothing malicious in his expression, his movements, his voice, nothing! "I came here to apologise, you-" he began angrily, but Poland cut him off.  
The former kingdom let out a shrill laugh at this. "Apologise? Well, that's new! You know you've tried to kill me twice before, right? I've never heard you say that you're sorry about any of that! What, did you think I'd forget how you would've sliced me in half in Grunwald, if it weren't for Lithuania's intervention? That you'd come to assassinate me? I saved your ass then, that time! Goddammit, I should've let you _bleed to death._ "  
Prussia fought to stay calm despite being yelled at like that. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to react in a cool-headed manner. "Look, Poland, things change. And besides, I know I didn't apologise directly, but after that first time you've had your revenge by locking me up for weeks in a dark, damp cell, and the second time I punished myself by leaving my position as a night and joining a blasted _monastery._ Can you imagine what life there must've been like for someone like me? I'm not monk material, but I lived the life of a devout priest for decades to make up for my mistakes. I hadn't been so sorry about anything in my life up to that point!"  
"And you mean to say that you _are_ more sorry about something now?" the older man guessed, huffing. "What could be worse than attempting to murder someone?"  
"How about actually murdering them?" Prussia retorted before he realised what he'd said. A heavy silence fell between him and Poland, and he heard the two guards behind him shift as if to catch more of the conversation now. _Dammit, I'll have to be quick._ "Because you know what? I'm getting this close to doing it right here, right now." He leaned down, bringing his face threateningly close to Poland's. "But I won't. After all, you're mine now, and I'd like to keep my territory for more than a day."  
Poland huffed. "I would've liked to keep _my_ territory a bit longer, too, but then I was tricked into giving you up by that backstabbing bitch of yours."  
This earned his chin a hard collision with Prussia's knee, and Poland's head snapped back against the wall painfully hard. He grunted in pain, but Prussia already lashed out at him a second time, with his fist now, and hit him right between his ribs, knocking the breath out of his lungs. "Call her that one more time and you'll be sorry!" he roared at him as he gave him a kick against his ribcage and felt one of them snap under his foot.  
Poland only laughed hoarsely and looked up at him for a moment, then rasped: "Aw, did I hit a sore spot there? You know what, Prussia, you may be all great and shit nowadays, deep inside you're still that weak little kid you always were, trying _so hard_ to prove himself to the world. But guess what, there's nothing to prove! You always have been and always will be absolutely _nothing_ compared to the rest of the world."  
"And what does that make you?" Prussia snapped, his whole body tense. "You're the loser, the absolute _weakling_ who was struck down by this 'nothing'."  
Poland's only response to this was to spit in Prussia's face, earning himself another punch in the face which made blood spurt from his nose and split lip. Prussia then scowled and walked away silently, but Poland called after him. "You know what, Prussia?" he said mockingly, "I'd heard rumours that you'd changed for the better over the past years. That you found your heart back and that there was some traces of _kindness_ in you, but I still see the same short-tempered little shit I've always known. You may have achieved a lot over the past century, but trust me, it's that arrogance and that temper of yours that will be your downfall. It always is, _always._ " He laughed again. "You like mythology, don't you? Does Icarus ring a bell?"  
"It does," Prussia answered, gritting his teeth in anger and not looking back at Poland as he spoke. "But you should know that, unlike that fool, _I know how to swim._ Even if I do fall, I won't drown. I'll get myself out of that mess and climb right back up." Now he looked over his shoulder and smirked. "If I knew how to give up, Polly," he sneered, "then I wouldn't have gotten this far, and I wouldn't have gotten you on your knees. And trust me when I say the rest of you damn fools shall soon follow in your footsteps."  
"Ah, but you forget," Poland replied cooly. "Even if you can swim, if _you_ of all people get too close to the sun, Prussia, it won't end well for you. I'm afraid your sensitive little skin can't handle all that."  
Prussia didn't answer. Instead he continued walking again and called over his shoulder: "See you in a decade, Polly! I'm already looking forward to ordering you around."  
The guard that escorted Prussia back out looked a little nervous around the kingdom after having watched him beat Poland up like that. "S-sir, if I may," he began, stuttering a little. "I don't think you were supposed to injure the prisoner."  
"He insulted me," Prussia answered casually, feeling completely calm and at ease again. "I wasn't lying when I said I came to apologise for ending his existence, but he doesn't deserve any sympathy from Awesomeness like yours truly. But even worse than insulting _me-_ " He stopped, halting, and the human stopped walking a second later, staring at Prussia. The kingdom looked at the man with an even gaze and asked simply: "Do you have a wife, mister?"  
The guard nodded. "Y-yes, sir."  
"Well, he called mine a backstabbing bitch." The Prussian continued walking out the prison, followed closely by the guard. "You can imagine why I reacted that way, can't you?"  
The human nodded and answered in a soft voice that he understood, in that case. "But you have a wife, sir?" he asked then, sounding curious. "I thought nations like yourself and the prisoner-"  
"Don't people these days get any education?" Prussia sighed, rolling his eyes. "I was -am- under Personal Union with the Margraviate of Brandenburg. But she's been dead for nearly a century." He chuckled for a moment, thinking of what Brandenburg's response would've been if Poland had called her a backstabbing bitch to her face. "She would've crushed Poland more than I just did, with mere words," he said, looking up at the clouds once he got outside and seeing the entire scene play out in his head. "Oh, it would have been glorious. But _no one_ insults my Brand when she's not around to cut them up herself with that beautifully sharp tongue she always had. Not on my watch."  
With another soft laugh he walked away, ready to head back home again now.

* * *

In October that year, a war against France ended, which had begun a couple of months after France and Spain had come to visit Prussia in '92. Prussia had stopped fighting in it 2 years ago already, but now that the French Republic had won the war against the Holy Roman Empire's territories among others, he regretted stepping out of the war so soon.  
Polish Legions, now without a country, fought on the side of the French against Austria, something the former Poland seemed to take pride in: he saw it as his revenge to have his people fight against the nations who had partitioned his land until none of it remained independent.  
The Netherlands had been taken over by France, something Prussia felt bad about: years ago, Dutch patriots had tried to fight against their stadtholders and seize power for the people, as they believed the stadtholder was starting to behave too much like a king. Prussia, since the stadtholder William V's wife was Princess Wilhelmine of Prussia, had sent troops to help, but the patriots had gotten French help in turn and had won.  
Now the French had betrayed their patriot allies and taken over the country.  
 _France is expanding his territories,_ Prussia thought one day, a year later in 1798, pacing around his room. He didn't want to have to fight again, not against France. He was still Prussia's close friend, but the new republic was threatening his family. He was threatening _Holy Rome,_ the one person who really couldn't have foreign threats now, not with his current state of health.  
But later that year the second attempt to bring down the French Republic started. Prussia stayed out of it, but kept track of everything, growing increasingly worried. He did _not_ want to end up fighting France. Really, he couldn't care less if France and Austria fought, they had done so more often than Prussia had fought against Austria, if he had counted correctly; he had lost count some wars ago. But he also didn't want to have to deal with an expansionist Frenchman at his borders. It might be best to engage now to try and keep the French at bay, but…  
"I hate politics!" he yelled to himself, kicking angrily against his desk. "Why must it always become so damn personal and complicated?"  
The whole situation had him stressed out, but he remained on the sidelines and watched. And when he would join the fight –when, not if- he would join his family against France. He had made up his mind about that much.  
Even if that family, when it came to the forces opposing the French Republic, consisted mainly of Austria.

These tensions in Europe meant that the Holy Roman Empire's 1000th 'birthday' was pretty much ignored, much to Holy Rome's own relief: he didn't seem to want to hear anything about it. Still, when he heard that his brother stayed home in Vienna with Austria –who was still incapable of fighting himself after Prussia had momentarily crippled him- to work on politics and strategies from there, Prussia traveled their way for a visit when 2 February came within sight.

"Prussia?" Holy Rome seemed surprised to see his younger brother being brought his way by Austria. "What are you doing here?" He put his work aside and got to his feet, swaying a bit.  
Prussia's stomach twisted when he saw his older brother like this; he was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days. And when he stood in front of Holy Rome and leaned down to give him a firm hug, he felt the little empire shaking in his arms. But he didn't show how much this fact distressed him, and just smiled instead when he let go of Holy Rome again. "You're 1000 years old today," he reminded his brother. "I couldn't ignore that, now could I?"  
Holy Rome smiled but didn't say anything. Instead, he looked over Prussia's shoulder at Austria. "Do you have news?"  
Prussia's heart sank. Holy Rome was clearly sick, in no condition to work, and all he seemed to be able to think about was the war! Prussia had only come in here a minute ago and he was already ignoring the kingdom and asking about the war instead. Worried, he grabbed the empire by the shoulders and forced him to look at him. "Holy Rome, take a break," he urged him softly. "I've been here for, what, two minutes? And I can already tell that you need to rest. Come on, don't be stubborn."  
But Holy Rome shook his head and chuckled. "Maybe if you can help me get out of this war," he said with a sigh, "then I'll have time to rest. Right now I just need to protect the _status quo_ in Europe. France a republic... not on my watch, you don't, especially the expansionist tendencies that go with it."  
The little empire turned around then to continue discussing the war with the few humans present, but Prussia stopped him again. He acted completely on impulse right now, and that might just be a mistake, but he couldn't care less for a moment. "Let me do all that, Holy Rome," he suggested, nodding to all the paperwork, the strategy table, all of it. "You know I'm a good strategist -and that's an understatement. You need to rest, Holy Rome, and I can do all this just fine."  
"I doubt that's legal," one of the humans protested, narrowing his eyes at the Prussian.  
Prussia only glared back. "I doubt that I care about legality." He turned back to Holy Rome, who still looked unconvinced. "Come on, let me at least try. I know my work won't be as good as when I work with my own, familiar army, but I've been keeping track of all your movements as best I can-"  
"Should I get worried about this?" Austria then piped up, looking surprised and a little displeased.  
"-No. What I mean to say is, I'm pretty sure I could do it. Let me take over for you, if only for today, so that you can rest."  
The others finally seemed to consider the offer, and Austria exchanged a glance with Holy Rome. The latter sighed after a short silence. "Well, I suppose you're right that I'm not doing too great," he admitted reluctantly. "But, Prussia, you taking over my work? I think that's something we should first put up for discussion –it's not exactly something that's accepted just like that, you know?"  
Austria nodded, taking a step closer to his two cousins, looking at Prussia through narrowed eyes and with a careful gaze. "If you're going to develop strategies for _my_ army, even if only for one day," he said, making every word extra clear, "then you're not going to do with without me around to watch you. You've been keeping out of the war so far, so who's to guarantee that you're not working with France behind our backs? I know that you two are good friends. And as far as republics go, you're not against those, either; you practically encouraged Netherlands to be one."  
"Encouraged him?" Prussia echoed then, taken aback by these accusations. What nonsense they were! "No, I'm just not against him being one now that he's managed to get there. I wouldn't be against a French Republic so long as he could respect borders, but I'm _not_ hoping for some French revolutionary idiots on my borders, trying to take over my land, thank you very much." He barked out a short laugh, looking the other way. Austria's stare was accompanied by those of the humans and Holy Rome's as well, and it starting to become a little awkward. "I like France, yes, but there are _limits_. Or, to be more precise, there are _borders,_ and he needs to respect them. I'm with you guys, not him."  
Suddenly there was another voice behind Prussia, and immediately his heart felt lighter. "Oh, let him do it, you guys," Hungary put in, walking their way and stopping beside Prussia. "We've experienced firsthand how great his strategies are. And besides, if he betrays us," she added, leaning in closer to Prussia and ruffling his hair with a grin, "then _I'll_ have an excuse to beat him up. Everyone happy."  
And there his heart sank again, though not too deep. Hungary had sounded cheerful for a moment when she walked in, but now it seemed that had only been about the prospect of beating him up. _Well,_ he told himself, unable to suppress a tiny smirk to himself. _'Happy about beating me up' is still 'happy', 'about' and 'me' in the same sentence, so that's good. A step forward in the right direction._ "What Crazy Woman says," he then finished with a shrug. "If I betray you, you're welcome to imprison me here for a short while and beat me to a pulp daily. Deal?"  
Those terms appeared to be acceptable for Austria, and he nodded. "Deal. And what about you, Holy Rome?" he added, turning to the empire, who stood watching them all.  
The boy shrugged. "If that gives me a chance to catch up on sleep, then yes, thank you," he mumbled, not sounding too happy about it after all. Hungary just went with him as he left, none too enthusiastically, saying she'd be back soon. Meanwhile Austria gestured to Prussia to come join him and the humans, explaining the necessary information about their army's position to the Prussian so that they could get to work quickly. Then, when Holy Rome was out of earshot, he said a soft thanks to the kingdom for giving to empire a chance to rest, saying that he'd been in a bad state ever since this war began –worse than normally, that is. Prussia answered in a hushed voice that he'd noticed, adding: "Don't make yourself any illusions, Sissy: I'm doing this for my brother, not for _you._ "  
"I was aware, thank you."

* * *

That same evening, once all work was done for now –they were all certain that a new day would bring a new workload- Holy Rome requested that Prussia played him a piece on his flute again. He knew by now that the Prussian took his flute with him practically everywhere he went, just like Fritz had done. And, he added, it would be so nice if Austria could maybe join him on the piano. At this, the two cousins glanced at each other, both grimacing. "Err, Holy Rome," Prussia began, a shiver going down his spine at the idea of playing music together with Austria, _especially_ since he'd always declared him a sissy prick _because_ he played music all the time. "Are you sure you'd want to listen to something like that? Aristocrat Boy and I aren't exactly on the same line. We're not _in harmony_ , so to say, and I don't think our music would be, either."  
"Probably not," Austria agreed, a mistake on his end.  
Because now, Holy Rome just smiled at the two of them, stating that, clearly, they _were_ on the same line right now, even if it was about how they were never on the same line together. "So take the moment, and make use of it!" he told them with a short laugh.  
His stomach twisting with reluctance, Prussia sighed and agreed, followed suit by Austria, and the trio –then joined by Hungary, to make matters even worse- went to the aristocratic country's piano room and chose a piece that might sound all right between a piano and a flute.  
And they shocked even themselves with what came out of it. Austria and Prussia weren't harmonious, definitely not, but their instruments certainly were. After realizing this, it was too awkward to either of them to even so much as look at the other. _We've been working together just now and something good came out of it._  
Beyond all expectations. Completely.

Austria, Prussia and Hungary stayed up longer than Holy Rome did, and when they were with just the three of them, there were a lot more awkward silences than before. They tried to talk about other things than the war, but they kept coming back to that topic.  
"It's not looking good for us," Austria admitted with a sigh. "France is aggressive nowadays. This'll either be over quickly, or it will take many more years, but either way it will be messy."  
Hungary nodded. "Now if you would just let me join our troops, I could make a difference," she said to Austria, her arms crossed over her chest and giving him an indignant stare. "As it stands, I'm not really doing anything and I hate it."  
"Same here, but my king wants neutrality," Prussia sighed, glad that there was at least one thing he could agree on here –and not with Austria, because if they agreed _one more time_ that day, he would seriously die from awkwardness and shock. He then leaned forward and patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Crazy Woman, I'm sure you're making a difference already. But seriously, Sissy," he added to Austria, confused for a moment. "Lizzie's one of the most awesome fighters I know, why wouldn't you let her do what she's good at?"  
"It's not my decision," the Austrian reasoned. "It's our leader who said that she's a woman, and therefore she should try to be a lady for once, and so she shouldn't fight. I tried to talk him out of it, but…"  
"But you gave up rather quickly," Hungary muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance.  
Austria now turned back to her, narrowing his eyes in worry. "That's because France is fighting us directly, and I don't want you to get into trouble," he told her softly. "You know that. France is out of control, who know what he'll do."  
"England and Scotland are here on the mainland," the Hungarian woman protested. "They're not afraid of France. None of the others are, and neither am I! Roderich, _please_ , let me go to our troops."  
Prussia felt the awkwardness rising again, mainly because he felt he shouldn't be listening to this conversation. He wanted to join the conversation, because he had a few things he wanted to say too –for example, that he also didn't want anything to happen to Hungary, and for once he was willing to say that out loud. But on the other hand he felt like getting up and leaving. So, as a compromise between the two, he just sat back and listened after all.  
"We already might lose Holy Rome," Austria then put in, more insistently now. "I'm not allowing you to take risks, too."  
"Wait, what?" Prussia then blurted out. "Holy Rome might die? Why wasn't I told anything about this?"  
Austria and Hungary stared at him immediately, then exchanged a guilty look. "Err, well…" Hungary began, lowering her gaze to the floor. "There are… plans…"  
"But that's nothing important," Austria then said quickly, silencing her. "Don't worry, Prussia, I'm sure it's nothing. He's just not doing well, but he'll get back on his feet. You know he always does."  
 _But this is important!_ Prussia wanted to yell at him, but he controlled himself and instead folded his hands into tight fists. _This has to do with my brother and it's_ _ **bad**_ _, I can tell that much._ He gritted his teeth but remained quiet, especially when he saw Hungary's eyes: she looked at him with half-lidded green eyes and a sad, guilty look in them. He couldn't remember if, and if so when, she had ever looked at him like that. It had been ages since she had looked at him like she didn't hate him.  
Right now, it tore at his heart more than it warmed his heart to see her look at him without any trace of disdain. _What's wrong with my brother, please tell me, please tell me!_ But he knew Austria had made up his mind and Hungary wouldn't tell him anything if Austria didn't. He then tore his gaze from Hungary again and locked eyes with Austria instead, wordlessly begging him to tell him what was going on. But Austria didn't say a word.  
"Suit yourselves!" he snapped, but not nearly with all the fire he normally could've done; he felt too shaky knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what. He didn't want to stay here with them anymore, and said softly that he would go see if Holy Rome was still awake. He got up with a deep sigh and walked away with dragging feet, feeling tired and utterly defeated all of a sudden.  
Of course he had an idea what they meant, but he did not accept it.  
Holy Rome would survive.  
He had to.

* * *

When Prussia was out of sight, Hungary sighed, forcing her tense muscles to relax. She stared at Austria until he finally turned around and looked back at her. "Why didn't you just tell him?" she asked softly, wondering for a moment if this was an act of Prussia's to get information after all, and that he was maybe standing somewhere within earshot. "He has a right to know, doesn't he?"  
"If Holy Rome wanted him to know," Austria replied shakily, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders hang, "then he would've told him himself by now. But Ludwig said Prussia can't handle something like that right now, and I… I think he might be right." He looked up again then, staring for a moment at the doorway where Prussia had left. "He's different somehow, has been for a couple of years. Since Frederick died."  
Hungary nodded; she had noticed it too. "He seems so meek," she mumbled, half to herself, as she sat back again and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not like him. Even just now, he snapped all right, but normally he would've cursed at us or maybe even gone physical, slapping either one of us or something like that."  
"Exactly," Austria agreed softly. He shook his head with a soft, brief sigh. "He's so strange… He went into a decades-long fit of anger when Brandenburg died, and now Frederick's gone, who seemed just as dear to him, and he's so calm about everything. Eerily so."  
Hungary remembered a few years back, when Prussia had come their way to Vienna to stay with them a little while. Back then she had noticed it too, though he had been more energetic than he was now. She had thought for a long time that her childhood friend had just become a jerk, teasing her whenever he got the chance, insulting Austria day and night, thinking himself king of the world. Committing atrocious crimes in between it all with his wars. But she had realized back then, when he had drunk a little too much and broke down right in front of them, that all that had been part of his more than slightly twisted grieving process. He had never gotten over the loss of Brandenburg yet, and how could he, when she had gone without any warning and she had been the one pillar keeping his entire world balanced? When she died, all of that crumbled away, and for a short while Hungary had believed his sanity had followed suit. Maybe it had.  
Now here was a completely different grieving process: the one he had been prepared for. He obviously tried so hard to move on, but he seemed to be stuck right now, almost over it but not completely yet. And Hungary saw now that, in his completely obnoxious behaviour and arrogance, Prussia had just constantly been trying to convince himself that he had and deserved people who cared about him, and seeking confirmation of that. Now that he wasn't his arrogant self so much anymore, it gave Hungary the feeling that he had given up on that. _Prussia, we're here for you,_ she vowed silently. _I know that we've fallen out many, many times, but you're still my little buddy that I found one day…_ She had known him for nearly 600 years, and they had been friends throughout most of those. There was no way she couldn't care about him at all, and there was no way her heart couldn't break for him now every time she saw him.  
Austria's words now didn't help, either. "He's nearing his breaking point," he said, to no one in particular it seemed. "I wonder what Holy Rome's death will cause in Prussia… but it can't be good."  
 _Crack._ There it went again, her heart. She patched it up every single time she spoke to Prussia. She had to, or it would stay broken forever. That was also why she rather avoided him nowadays, even though she could well understand it was doing the opposite of helping him. She couldn't breathe for a moment. "I never thought he even _had_ a breaking point," she choked out, feeling warm tears well up in her eyes and blinking them away. "He always seemed so unbreakable… But he's just lonely. Roderich, why can't I like him more? W-why can't I tolerate him and his stupid attitude better? I want to be there for him, but I –I can't stand him sometimes!" She clenched her jaws tightly and gritted her teeth, but couldn't stop her tears from falling, and so she raised her shoulders high and let her head hand in a hopeless attempt to hide them. "Why must it be so hard just to be friends with him? He needs friends, he _needs_ them desperately, and I _try_ , but it's not like it used to be anymore and I don't know what to do!"  
Austria, thankfully, remained calmer and put his arms around her gently, letting her decide for herself whether or not she wanted that comfort right now. "We'll do whatever we can for him," he said in a whisper. "I promise."  
And there's what she loved about Austria: Holy Rome had taught him well how to take care of his family, even the ones he disliked as much as he did Prussia. The two had never gotten along, but Austria tried again and again to make the impossible happen, on the Holy Roman Empire's request, especially after Prussia had established himself as the second major power within the empire. They needed to learn to work together, he always said, and Austria, though he had needed some time after the Silesian Wars, tried every time. Hungary just leaned against Austria, enjoying the warmth. But she enjoyed it for only a few heartbeats, because then an image came to mind, a memory. Prussia staring at them with unhidden, pure jealousy once when they'd sat like this. Then she remembered how close he and Brandenburg had been. She couldn't imagine how much it hurt him to see other people enjoy all the things in life he didn't have or had lost along the way; friendship, love, joy.  
That's when she cried.

* * *

This second war against France ended in a French victory once again 2 years later in 1802, only to be resumed the next year with the Third Coalition. The Holy Roman Empire sided with the United Kingdom, Russia, Sweden, Sicily and Naples. Fighting on the mainland were Italy Romano, France was still there as well (Prussia doubted he would be on the battlefield much longer), Saxony, Bayern and Hesse represented the Holy Roman Empire. The United Kingdom had perhaps the best tactic, being that they switched every few years: in the previous war, it had been England and Wales fighting with their army, now it was Scotland and Ireland. Prussia remained on the sidelines, keeping track of everything as much as he could, growing increasingly worried not only about France's actions, but also Holy Rome, who only got worse this time. It had been centuries since the empire hadn't been sickly and frail, but this was intense even for him.  
Because this time, several German territories were fighting with the French, instead of against them. Bavaria and Württemberg. Now it didn't surprise Prussia that Bavaria had sided with France, after all the boy's previous life had done the same and died doing so. But he had expected better from Württemberg. He hadn't spent so much time raising him together with Brandenburg so that he could betray his family, _especially_ when it only made Holy Rome worse. When Prussia had fought Austria, at least the territories he took stayed within the Holy Roman Empire. If France conquered land, that would be a much bigger problem for Holy Rome.  
But France won again, and Austria retreated in December 1805. By then, Prussia needed only one more push to join the fight against France.

 _5 March 1806_

 _I heard France is planning to use the Holy Roman territories that lie between us as a buffer between him and me. Ha! Francy-pants is scared of me, he must be. He knows that the last thing I want right now is to damage my family further and thus damage Holy Rome, but if he thinks this is going to stop me, he is dead wrong.  
No one harms my brother when he's defenseless like this.  
France, we had a good run as friends, but if this is how you'll be from now on, I will not hesitate to crush you if I have to._

… _  
On another note, Brandenburg… why aren't you showing up in my dreams now? It's been over a century since you died, and in that entire century, if ever there was a moment I could use your support, it's now. Please, Brand, I miss you so much…  
And one of these days, when I do see you again, can you take Fritz with you? I could really use him right now, too.  
I haven't exactly been feeling awesome lately…_

* * *

 **So, small revelation about Hungary: no, she does not hate Prussia. She really cares about him. _But_ I think we can all understand that he's hard to get along with sometimes (?) and that makes it that much more difficult to actually show how much she cares. So yeah...  
(Also, no she still has no clue about Prussia's feelings for her. She thinks he's jealous, as mentioned, because 'he doesn't have a connection like that with anyone anymore'. She'll find out one day.)  
**

 **Oh well, I guess we all know what is coming in the next chapter... and funny enough, one of the most recent chapters of the Hetalia webcomic gave me a bout of inspiration about what to do with Holy Rome after this. There will be some sweetness yet before he passes, I promise.**

 **Oh well, thanks for reading again, and I hope you liked the chapter! Also, enjoy the summer (or winter, depends on the hemisphere I suppose)!**


	48. Chapter 48

**Uhm... Emotional rollercoaster alert. Sorry 'bout that.  
Is it all right if I say there's a happy end to this chapter?**

 **Anyway, thanks to pinkdoughnuts, MissiriKoharehn, Guest and SonoSvegliato for the reviews!  
Guest, I have a YouTube channel indeed. Same name as here. But I must tell you, the majority there is several years old, and the most recent stuff is from about a year ago. I kinda took a 2-3 year break from animating, so practically everything is old. Also, most of it is Warrior Cats stuff. A clearer example of how I draw humans would be on my dA (also same name).  
And then, SonoSvegliato... why did you do this to meeeee *sobs*. That song fit Prussia and Brandenburg _so well._ Thank you so much for pointing that out!**

 **Oh well... my apologies for this chapter. Most of the sweetness I promised won't be in this chapter yet.  
(Though as I said, the ending is pretty sweet I guess)**

* * *

 _5 August 1806_

 _All the family was called here to Vienna for something that's going to happen tomorrow. Some seem to know what it is, others don't, but no one really talks about it.  
I only know that Napoleon set the Holy Roman Emperor an ultimatum, but not exactly what was in it. That's the one thing I haven't picked up on yet.  
But something about this makes me feel sick whenever I think about it. Maybe because Holy Rome looks sicker than ever, and he hasn't said anything to me yet._

The next day, on the 6th, Prussia and everyone else in the family sat in a conference hall in Vienna, the Holy Roman Emperor and all other countries' leaders being present as well.  
Austria and Holy Rome stood somewhere alone, talking to one another softly. Prussia tried to get close enough to hear them, but Hungary and Italy Veneziano –also belonging to the Holy Roman Empire's territories- pulled him back again and sat down somewhere with him, each sitting down on either side of the Prussian. _Why?_ he wanted to ask them. _Is it that you feel you need me around, or do you think I need you?_ It wasn't just to catch up on each other's news, that was for sure. Hungary never really seemed to care that much and Italy, though he and Prussia hadn't seen each other in ages, didn't talk much. These two both knew what was going to happen, that much was clear. _So why don't I?_  
When he asked, Hungary was the one who answered in a soft voice: "Well, I suppose it won't hurt to tell you now… The Holy Roman Emperor is going to step down, Gil." This, of course, came as a shock. Stepping down as Emperor wasn't something that many of them had done: most died during their reign or stepped down because they would die soon and they wanted their son or nephew or whoever to succeed them already.  
"So who's going to be the next Emperor?" he asked in a whisper, staring at the human from a distance, confused by it all. "And why are we all here for that? I mean, last time one of those old geezers stepped down while he was still alive, they didn't make this big a deal out of it."  
Hungary sighed softly and shook her head. "Gil, that's the thing; there won't be a new-"  
Just then, she was cut off by the Emperor, who announced that whatever he had called everyone here for was going to start now. Prussia's heart sank. He knew what Hungary had been going to say.  
The Holy Roman Emperor took stepped up and began to speak, his head held high but his expression grim. "I'm sure many of you have heard of Napoleon's ultimatum by now," he began. "As a response to that, it has been decided that I shall, from today onward, be Emperor of Austria instead of Holy Roman Emperor. All states belonging to the Holy Roman Empire shall from here on forward be independent."  
Prussia's eyes widened. He'd thought Austria would officially be taking over as the new empire connecting them all. But apparently everyone was going to be on their own now? _But it's been like this for 1000 years,_ he wanted to protest. _You can't just change it! How are we all going to manage without one another?_  
But the worst part was yet to come. When the Emperor spoke next, Prussia's heart seemed to stop. "From today onward, the Holy Roman Empire is officially dissolved."  
 _...what…?  
_ And then the whole world faded. Prussia couldn't breathe anymore, his heart was aching badly and it didn't seem to be beating anymore. All he could do was stare at Holy Rome, _former_ Holy Rome, who stood there in silence, unmoving, accepting his fate with dignity and calm.  
Poland had been taken off the map and still lived, Prussia told himself. Poland didn't exist and he still lived.  
But then, Holy Rome had never had any land of his own, had he? He was the one connecting all the lands, governing them all, but he had never had any land that was truly the Holy Roman Empire and only that. Realizing this, Prussia's stomach twisted. The little former empire was too sick, too frail to make it through this. This would kill him for sure.  
 _You can't do this,_ he thought desperately, fighting for breath. _You can't do this to him. You're killing him!_ "YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Before he even realized it himself, Prussia had jumped to his feet, staring wide-eyed at the human, who stared back at him in shock. There were whispers of surprise around him, and the kingdom noticed that though most of them were about the Holy Roman Empire's fate, some also reacted to Prussia's outburst. He then felt a tug on his arm, and saw a teary-eyed Hungary stare up at him and shake her head slowly, mouthing 'sit down'. But Prussia couldn't control himself right now. He pulled his arm free from Hungary's surprisingly weak grasp and took a step in the emperor's direction, his whole body tense. "Y-you can't," he repeated, softer now, his voice wavering. "I-if the Holy Roman Empire is dissolved, what… what will happen to Holy Rome?"  
No one answered, but the former empire stared at him now, his pale blue eyes glassy.  
"Well?" Prussia demanded, taking another step closer, getting angry now. "Answer me! _What will happen to my brother?!_ " When still no one answered, he approached the human with quick paces, hands folded into fists and with gritted teeth. "For fuck's sake, answer the damn question!" he roared, throwing all his anger and distress into those words. "What have you done to _my brother?!_ " But before he could get close enough to the man to hurt him –if he had even been going to, he couldn't tell that himself- some others had grabbed him and pulled him back, restraining him.  
Enraged and startled at the same time, he screamed and kicked for a brief moment, struggling to free himself. Then he heard Hesse's deep voice right beside his ear. "Calm down, Prussia," he said in a hushed voice, obviously trying to sound reassuring. "We're all shocked over this, but there's no need to react this way. Hush, calm down, before you hurt someone."  
But Prussia kept on struggling, unable to calm down. They couldn't be taking his brother from him, not him too! Hadn't he lost enough yet? Hadn't Holy Rome suffered enough yet-  
…Oh.  
Now he got it.  
And just like that, he stopped struggling entirely. Holy Rome was going to die now. He wouldn't suffer anymore after this. Soon, he would be without pain, without worries, without sickness and fragility. But was that all worth it?  
It didn't change the fact that, this time, Prussia was going to end up completely alone. Holy Rome was the last person in the world who really cared about him, knew him, loved him as much as he did Holy Rome. The last person he could talk to, trust, believe in.  
The one he knew would end up dying someday, but of whom he had never really believed that at the same time. Holy Rome was over 1000 years old. He had withstood so much. He was unbreakable, immortal, unstoppable.  
And he had just been ended for good.

As Hesse and Hanover brought Prussia back to his place between Hungary and Italy, keeping a close eye on him so as to ensure he wouldn't try anything anymore now, Prussia picked up a whisper from somewhere in the hall: "Funny though, isn't it, that the one to overreact like this just _has_ to be the only one here who isn't even formally part of the Holy Roman Empire in the first place."  
Prussia stopped walking now, but though those words only stomped on the shards of his heart now, he didn't react. He just didn't have the willpower anymore.  
Thankfully, somehow Hungary knew to behave calmly now, and instead of making a comment like that herself, she gently grabbed Prussia by the arm and held on to him like that for the duration of the conference from there on, serving as some quiet comfort, silent consolation.

* * *

When it ended, Italy Veneziano ran up to the former Holy Roman Empire, who had declared that from now on he wished to be known only by his chosen human name, Ludwig. The two good friends talked, Italy looking distressed and shedding a few tears somewhere along the way.  
Meanwhile Prussia stayed right where he was, and Hungary didn't move either. She didn't speak, just like Prussia, and stayed beside the shocked albino. She only let go of his hand once to wiped away some of her own silent tears. But when Austria approached them, it was Prussia who moved away.  
Hungary looked like she wanted to stop him, but he just sighed and asked to be left alone for now. Reluctantly, then Hungarian let him go, watching him in worry as he left.  
 _Why?_ Prussia wanted to ask her as he was walking away slowly. _You've never cared before. Don't act like you give a shit about me, I know you don't… You've made that very clear before._ He sighed deeply, his shoulders and head slumped a bit. _No one ever does. And all who do care end up dead._ He was cursed. His previous life must've done something wrong, horribly wrong, and he was being punished for it now. Wasn't that the only explanation now? Everything was being taken away from him, one by one. Everyone he cared about either died or didn't care about him like he did them.  
And he was supposed to just accept it all and move on? To just accept that everyone still thought of him as an outsider on top of all this? Whoever had said that he wasn't part of the empire anyway had really gone deep. He could hardly breathe just thinking about it.  
And then he stopped dead in his tracks.  
He _had_ never formally been a part of the Holy Roman Empire, _Brandenburg_ had been. And though that land was nowadays called 'Prussia' as much as Prussia himself was, It had still been _Brandenburg_ , just represented by Prussia, for as long as the Holy Roman Empire existed. And now it was gone.  
 _Brand is really gone now…_ All this time he had been reminding himself that, though the person had been gone for over a century, Brandenburg still existed. Now everything she had once left in this world, her land, her name, her people, were all gone.  
They were all his now. Brandenburg had disappeared as much as the Holy Roman Empire had today, even more so –at least Ludwig was still alive, though for how long?  
His legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed onto his knees. He didn't quite break down, at least he thought he didn't, but he was close enough to have trouble breathing and to feel a few warm tears slip every now and then. There was no one else in the corridor, to his relief, and if there were he didn't notice them, meaning they didn't pay attention to him. _As per usual._ He just stayed there, trying to calm down again, and he succeeded after a little while by telling himself that _he_ was what Brandenburg had left behind; it was up to him to remind people of her existence, and he would do a good job at it, being totally awesome as usual. _But it took me so damn long to even let people know of my own existence…_ But he would do it. He wouldn't let anyone forget Mrs Awesome, not so long as he was alive, and going by his predictions now, that would still be many centuries.

He finally felt better again by the time someone found him, and on the matter of that 'someone', he thankfully had a lucky break now. "Prussia, there you are," Hungary said softly, sounding somewhat relieved. She knelt down beside him and forced a little smile, but he could see the red skin that rimmed her eyes; she'd been crying. The slight shiver in her voice told him the same thing, as if she was trying to stifle the last of her sniffling. She didn't seem to hesitate at all when she hugged him briefly. "Come, we're heading home now, and we'd like it if you came with us."  
At this, Prussia looked from one to the other in surprise. "You're going back home here in _Vienna_?" he asked them, astonished, and he slowly got to his feet again. "You do realize you just lost _your third_ war against France? I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here now." He said this last part while looking down at Ludwig, and then he blurted out on impulse: "Come to Berlin with me instead! _Please_ , I'd rather have you there with me than here with a risk of France getting to you." Then, acting even more impulsively yet, he looked up at Hungary and Austria, who stood side by side again now. "You're both welcome, too. In fact, I'd like it if you came as well." _I could do with some company, even if it's the two of you._  
The three exchanged a glance, and Ludwig was the first to smile and say: "Actually, I think it's our turn to run away from home and go in hiding somewhere now, isn't it?" he said with a chuckle. "I'd like to see Berlin again; I used to spend quite some time there with Brandenburg back before the Personal Union between her and Prussia. I like the city a lot."  
Now, Austria and Hungary gave in as well. "In that case," Austria said warmly, "yes, I'd love to see Berlin again, too. Thank you, Prussia. Are you sure Frederick William will agree?"  
Prussia forced a laugh now. "Do you think I care?"  
And with that, the four of them left.

* * *

"And so you invited them over for indefinite time without my consent?" Frederick William III sighed when they were back in Berlin. He was angry at Prussia more for the fact he hadn't even asked permission to bring not one, but _three_ nations back to Berlin with him than the fact that he now had three unexpected guests.  
Prussia flinched at the anger in his king's voice, then gestured to Ludwig. "I could hardly let him stay there, could I?" he mumbled. "Where France knows to find him? And the same goes for Austria and Hungary, so…"  
" _They_ could just have gone to Budapest if staying in Vienna was too much of a risk," the human put in with a sigh and shaking his head slowly. "But all right then, they're here now. And, Prussia," he added with a stern stare in his kingdom's direction. "They're _your_ responsibility. Be a proper host for once, would you?" Prussia only nodded obediently, at which the king narrowed his eyes, his gaze softening. "Are you all right, Prussia?" he asked out of the blue, sounding worried. "You…"  
"I'm fine," Prussia interrupted him bluntly, turning around to leave already. "The guests are my responsibility, you said. So I suppose I'd better prepare rooms for them, don't I?"  
The human was silent for a moment, clearly not convinced of Prussia's promise that he was okay. But then he nodded. "Go do that. We'll speak of this again later."

Prussia then left quickly, going back to where he had left Austria, Hungary and Ludwig. The former empire was ghostly pale and shivering, and Hungary was just checking his temperature while Austria sat beside them with a worried gaze. When they spotted Prussia, Hungary looked up at him. "His fever has risen again," she informed him quietly.  
With a pang of distress, Prussia looked down at his brother. "We'd better get you to bed, then," he said in a soft voice. "You need to rest if you want to get through this."  
The boy nodded, but coughed harshly when he tried to talk. On the way from Vienna to Berlin, he'd only gotten sicker so far. "Sounds like a good idea," he choked out, getting to his feet. But he swayed, and Prussia picked him up with ease.  
"Don't complain," he warned the former empire immediately. "Just let your awesome brother help you. All right?" Ludwig only nodded, resting his head against Prussia's shoulder, and like that the three left to go to a bedroom for the sick boy. He got another coughing fit on the way there, and Prussia noticed, much to his utter horror, that there was some blood on his lips afterwards. But though he saw the other two noticed it as well, he didn't say anything about it. Instead he just laid his brother down on a bed the moment he could, after which Hungary pulled the covers over his shivering body and Austria said he would get some water, leaving the other three alone for now.  
When Ludwig had yet another coughing fit, Hungary sat down beside him and said a few soft words of comfort to him. Then she looked up at Prussia; she looked exhausted, and he couldn't stand to look her in the eyes like this. "Prussia, maybe you should go rest up a bit too," she told him. "I've noticed you haven't slept well since the 6th."  
But Prussia didn't respond to that. Instead he looked down at his older brother, sighing with a slight shiver. "I'll arrange for a doctor to check on you this evening," he said in a soft voice.  
Immediately, Hungary reacted to this with a tiny sigh. "Prussia, that's very kind and all, but I don't think-"  
Prussia didn't even hear her. All he could think about was how he had to help Ludwig get better again, especially now that he was even more frail than normally, now that he wasn't a nation anymore. _I can't lose you,_ he thought desperately, panicking at the mere thought. _Not now, not yet. I can't lose you yet._ "If I'm lucky, I'll have someone here before sundown. I'm sure _someone_ will be able to fix you up."  
This time it was Ludwig himself who spoke up. "Prussia, _don't_ get a doctor for me, please," he said weakly, closing his eyes with a frown. "I don't want you to go through all that trouble for nothing."  
"For nothing?" the Prussian then echoed, shocked to hear him say that. "I just said, there must be someone around who can help you –it won't be for nothing!"  
"But I don't _want_ anyone to fix me up anymore!" the boy retorted without what was probably all the fire he could muster in his current pitiful state. His eyes were narrowed in anger and frustration and his shoulders looked tense as he next said: "I _want_ to die."  
Prussia gritted his teeth at this, anger flaring up in him. But it flared up with such intense heat, that he couldn't breathe anymore, and without saying a word he turned around and left. But before he was out of earshot, he caught Hungary and Ludwig talking to each other, and he stopped and listened.  
"Did you have to say it that bluntly?" Hungary asked, sounding a little peeved.  
Ludwig sounded even more frustrated than before over this. "Well, it's true!" he protested. "And I'm _not_ letting anyone get a doctor for me now –the sooner it's over, the better!" He huffed then, but that only sent him into another coughing fit, after which his voice was a lot softer and croaked on the first few words. " _I'm_ the one who's dying. I'm sorry, but I… I just cannot tiptoe around with everything I do and say anymore, just because _someone_ is a little unstable. Do you think this is easy for me? I want to be _dead_ , not dying. There's a goddamn difference."  
"Well, that's rich!" Hungary replied with a huff. "Especially coming from the person who specifically requested we keep an eye on him to see if he doesn't do anything… what was it again? That he doesn't do anything 'regrettable' again? What do you mean by that anyway?"  
Prussia had gotten angrier with each word, and enraged, he turned around and stomped back into the room again, his muscles so tense it felt like he had steel plates under his skin. "It means," he began, snapping, his red eyes ablaze with rage, "that he hopes I don't go around and _kill_ someone again like I did last time I lost someone dear to me, or the time before that."  
Hungary's eyes widened in shock at this. "You _killed someone_ after Fritz died?" she choked out, horrified.  
Prussia laughed dryly. "Oh, no, not then," he answered with a shrug. "But taking Poland off the map together with Russia and Austria, it's pretty damn close, isn't it? No, the _real_ murder was after Brand died." He was too angry now to care that he was revealing perhaps his greatest and most terrible secret in his entire centuries-long life. And besides, if he told this now, that was one less burden for his brother to take into his grave, wasn't it? Because he _so_ didn't want Ludwig to have an uneasy afterlife, oh no, of course not. "And honestly, all of you are pretty damn stupid that you hadn't realized it yet!" the kingdom then went on, traces of laughter in his voice. "I mean, we've all established by now that Brandenburg was killed by Bavaria, haven't we? It makes a pretty darn fucking lot of sense for Bavaria to have been killed by _me_ then, doesn't it?"  
" _You_ killed Bavaria?!" Austria's voice then came behind him, followed by a hard punch in the side of his face. The Austrian was staring at him in a mixture of hatred and disgust. "You goddamned _bastard_! I had my guesses that you had something to do with it, but… but…!" He punched Prussia again, and the albino didn't even try to resist. "You are _unbelievable!_ Ludwig, you knew about this?!" he then added, turning to the former empire. "And you never told anyone? You're just as bad!"  
"Oh, I'm sorry for wanting to give him a chance to redeem himself!" Ludwig retorted just as angrily.  
Prussia then went to stand beside his older brother and leaned over him, gritting his teeth. "Too late for that, you should know that much," he snapped. "You can't take back murder. The only thing you can do, is _add up_. So how about it, huh? Want me to kill you, too? You said you wanted it to be over quickly –I can end it _right now_ if you want me to!"  
"Why are you reacting like this, anyway?" Ludwig just yelled at him, also at his wit's end. "For Heaven's sake, Prussia, couldn't you figure out that I don't _want_ this anymore? You're not the only one who's lost a lot of people he knew, you know? _I_ have more familiar faces on the other side than you do!"  
"Yes, but at least _I_ don't go around claiming that I want to die!" Prussia retorted, throwing his arms up in a gesture of exasperation. " _You_ may want to die, but there are many more people who _don't_ want you to."  
"Sometimes it astounds me how selfish you can be," the former empire muttered with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.  
These words struck Prussia hard, and he was stunned silent for a moment. Hungary, Austria and Ludwig himself seemed shocked, too. _Selfish?_ the Prussian though, not really understanding it. _Now what's that supposed to mean?_ Him, selfish? Absolutely not, surely, he was just trying not to lose the last person in the world whom he could trust and lean on when he needed support. Yes, it was something for himself, and it went against the wishes of Ludwig, but considering what his older brother meant to him, did that really make him selfish?  
 _Why don't I know the answer to that?_  
But he didn't want to find the answer to that surrounded by these unawesome idiots. Wordlessly, he spun around and walked out of the room, feeling everyone's stares burning into his back. But he didn't slow down and he didn't look back. He ignored everyone he came across in the halls and in the gardens on his way to the stables, where he silently got his horse and readied it so that he could leave. He didn't know where he would go to, but it wouldn't be anywhere near _them_ for now.  
"I'm sure we'll come across an inn at some point," he said to his horse, patting the animal on its neck before climbing onto it back. "Don't worry, it won't be too long before you can take it easy again." And then, as quickly as he could, he went away.

* * *

It was near midnight by the time Prussia sat in an inn as planned, where he had just rented a room for the night and was now maintaining his mental health with the best substance in the world: good old beer. That, and it might help him sleep later on, because he wouldn't succeed on his own right now.  
 _I'm not selfish,_ he thought angrily, taking another swig of his drink. _Am I_? He sniffed, gritting his teeth for a moment before emptying his beer. Then he just listened to the quiet conversations around him, seeking distraction in them.  
"So, drowning your sorrows in alcohol?"  
Prussia's heart skipped a beat, and not in the good way. He spun around on his chair, seeing Hungary stand a few feet away from him. Her expression was even, her gaze somewhere between distrustful and pitying. The kingdom just narrowed his red eyes at her, scoffing. "Did you _have to_ follow me here?" he muttered, turning his back on her again. "For God's sake, woman, when I _leave_ , you don't follow me. Period."  
She walked closer to him, hesitated, then sat own on the chair beside Prussia. When she tried to look him in the eyes, he huffed and turned his face away from her. The Hungarian just sighed. "Prussia, try to understand Ludwig's position," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's in so much pain, he has been sick for ages… I wouldn't want to live anymore in his position, either. Would you?"  
"…I suppose not."  
"Well then," Hungary went on, shifting a bit. "But he shouldn't have said what he did, and he realized that. If you stuck around a minute longer, Prussia, you would've gotten an apology." The albino grunted and said he didn't even want an apology, but Hungary ignored that. "And on the matter of Bavaria…" she added more softly, whispering now. "Why did you do that?"  
For some reason, a cold shiver went down Prussia's spine now, and he clenched his hands into fists. "I told you," he answered hesitantly. "She killed Brandenburg. I…" Then he trailed off, and with a sigh, he leaned over the table he sat at and hid his face in his arms. "I don't know…" Then, with another deep sigh, he whispered: "But do you mind if I don't want to talk about the worst mistake in my life right now? This day has been crappy enough without it."  
Hungary was quiet for a little while, then asked in a tiny voice: "But that's how you view it? As the worst mistake you've ever made?" She sighed in relief when Prussia gave a short nod. "Well, that's one good thing among all the bad."  
Now Prussia looked up again. He could tell it took a great deal of self-control, but Hungary was trying to smile at him. But right now not even her smile could cheer him up. He just sighed deeply and got up, dropping a few coins on the counter to pay for the beer, then said quietly that he would head up to the room he'd rented now. But yet again, Hungary followed him. This time, however, she seemed to feel awkward, and Prussia realized what she was going to ask a few heartbeats before she did. "Is there, err…" she began nervously, averting her gaze. "Is there any possibility that I can share your room? I didn't think it would take me this long to catch up with you, and I really don't want to make the trek back to Berlin this late –or I suppose it's early, rather. Also I don't have any money to rent a room of my own, so…"  
"I could pay for you," Prussia said dismissively, then nodding to two young men in the corner. "But those two just rented the last available room a couple of minutes before you came in. I heard the conversation between them and the owner." He cracked a tiny, joyless smile. "Asked me if I had any good stories they could write down. So I just replied that one night would never be enough to tell the stories I know. I think they'll come to me in the morning again… when we have more time to talk." He laughed dryly. "But then, I'll have to disappoint them anyway –they were looking for fairytales and folklore, they told me. Well, I don't think I'll be of much help there. Oh well… If you really want to share my room with me, go right ahead. We'll figure something out."

It wasn't until Prussia closed the door behind him and Hungary that he realized what he'd just offered her: he'd rented a one-person room. She, too, seemed to only realize that now.  
"Well…" she began awkwardly, trying her hardest to look at everything but Prussia. "The floor looks comfortable enough."  
Prussia just shook his head. "You'll have to ride a horse back tomorrow," he muttered, feeling uncomfortable right now. "I… I can't let you sleep on the floor, can I?" He was trying to figure something out as quickly as possible, then saw a small wooden dresser to his right. Rummaging through the drawers, he soon found another, smaller pillow, a cushion more like it, and laid that beside the other on the bed. There was only one duvet though. "Do you need one in this weather?" the Prussian quickly asked Hungary, holding it up. She shook her head, then narrowed her eyes in curiosity when Prussia rolled the thing up over the full length of the thing and placed that in the middle of the bed. Then the albino turned back to his old friend, shrugging. "We can use that as a barrier. You get one side, I get the other, and we need never even touch one another tonight."  
Hungary still looked a little hesitant, but then she sighed, realizing it was probably their only proper option. "Well, I suppose that might work. And since we don't have a duvet, that also gives us yet another reason to keep our clothes on, so that's one less thing to feel awkward about." She stopped abruptly, grunting. "Now what was I just saying?"  
Prussia, who was in the middle of taking off his shirt, looked at her for a moment, motionless, then shrugged and just continued what he was doing. "It's not like you haven't seen this much before," he just said monotonously. "Man up a little, Lizzie, it's only my chest –it's not like _you_ have to do the same, at that." With a genuine grin in her direction, he added: "At least it gives you an enjoyable view, eh?"  
She blushed and looked away with an angry huff, muttering to him that he was such an annoying prick sometimes, something which managed to make him snicker for a moment.  
Mere minutes later, they lay back to back with the rolled-up duvet between them. A long silence passed, to be broken by Prussia when he asked softly: "So why did you, of all people, follow me? I thought you hated me." Had he seriously just said that out loud? _Way to go, Prussia,_ he grunted internally. _This really helps you look more awesome again._  
But Hungary replied calmly, as if she had expected that. "I don't hate you," she whispered. "I don't think I've ever really _hated_ you –I did dislike you greatly for a time, mind you, but hate is just too big a word." Prussia felt her shift against his back, and he pictured her rolling over to look at him. "As for right now, angry as I may be after what you said to Ludwig, that you killed Bavaria… That's something I'll never forgive you for, I think. But I didn't want you to run off and be _alone_ after all that." She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, then said almost reluctantly: "I'm worried about you, Prussia. You haven't been yourself lately. Well, for a few years already, really…"  
"Yeah, well," the Prussian mumbled back, not really wanting to talk about any of this. "Awesome as I may be, even I have my limits. And the prospect of the only person who understands me, the only person left worth loving on this planet, dying soon…" He trailed off, knowing that Hungary would understand just fine what he had been about to say. That was the one thing even the greatest idiot on this planet would understand, after all.  
Hungary was quiet for only a few seconds before telling him softly: "See, that's just it, Prussia: no one understands you because you never talk. How can anyone know how you're feeling, if you're constantly trying to conceal your feelings and never talk about them?"  
Those words hit him like lightning, mainly because they were simply so true. How had he expected anyone to understand him, really? The three only people who ever _really_ knew him, he had trusted enough to actually talk to. All the rest he hid his emotions from as best he could. He sighed. "I don't talk about things like that to people I don't trust," he said dismissively. "Sorry, but that's just how it is. And if everyone I trust is dead, well, that's just my luck."  
"You're talking to me right now," Hungary reminded him. "There was a time when you would tell me anything. So why don't you try?" She leaned over the duvet barrier, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me, Prussia. What are you feeling?"  
"Right now?" Prussia asked, frowning. He was silent for a little while, thinking, but he couldn't come up with anything. "I don't know…"  
Hungary hummed softly, giving his shoulder a soft, sympathetic squeeze, then leaned down and gave him a tiny peck on the side of his head. "Next time you do figure it out," she whispered, breaking off in a yawn before continuing, "please do tell me. I want to try and understand you again, at least like I used to when we were little, hopefully even better than back then."  
She was just about to turn around and lay back down again, but Prussia grabbed her wrist and stopped her. _It's now or never._ Hungary blinked at him with sleepy green eyes, and Prussia's breath caught in his throat. "There's one thing I'm feeling, have been feeling for centuries." _What am I doing?_ He blinked, hesitating for a moment longer, then continuing: "This might not mean anything to you, and I don't even really want you to change the way you feel or behave around me for this, but…" _Good job, Prussia, you're about to kill yourself. She won't like this._ He took a deep breath, mustered the last scraps of courage he needed, then decided to finally spill it: "I've been in love with you for _centuries,_ Hungary. I don't know exactly when it started, but it's been hundreds of years already…" He looked her in the eyes for just a heartbeat longer –and his heart was racing right now- then looked away. "Well… I finally said it. Satisfied now?"  
He could've seen the awkward, heavy silence that fell after that coming, really, and he had. Still, even as he looked back at Hungary after a little while, saw her astonished, wide-eyed stare, he couldn't even begin to imagine what her reaction would be like once she found her voice back. Before she did, though, she sat bolt upright, slapping her hands over her mouth, in total shock. "Oh my God!" she choked out, her voice high-pitched, as if she just realized something important. A second or so later, it turned out she had. "That's why you never wanted to fight me during the wars!" Hungary looked back at Prussia, her eyes looking about to pop out of her skull and her mouth hanging open in utter astonishment. "And that's why you look so jealous every time I'm with Roderich, and –and that time we came to visit you, 20 years or so after Brandenburg had died, and we tried to cheer you up and we danced and fell on top of each other and you-"  
"Actually," Prussia interrupted, his heart pounding rapidly, "that last thing was because of Brandenburg, not you… I was thinking of her at that moment."  
"Oh, good," the young woman then sighed, laughing dryly for the lack of something better. "At least one thing I interpreted right, then." She chuckled for a moment longer, then when she looked back at Prussia, she fell back into her earlier, stunned state. "Oh my God…" she mumbled again, looking almost worried. "Are you drunk, Gil?" Prussia thought she could almost faint when he shook his head. "But what about Brandenburg?" Hungary then asked hoarsely. "I thought you loved her!"  
"I did!" Prussia retorted, taken aback by this. "I still do! Hell, Crazy Woman, that I love you doesn't mean I couldn't love her as well, it was just… a bit different." He shook his head, frustrated by now, scolding himself internally that he had blurted this out just like that. He could've known it would lead to something like this! _Well,_ _ **she**_ _was the one who asked about my feelings,_ he reminded himself. _And she got what she asked for. If she can't deal with that, it's her problem, not mine._ "Love isn't just restricted to one person, you know," he said, rolling his eyes. "That would be something, wouldn't it, though? Imagine a man loving only his wife and not his children. Or a mother loving one child but not the others. This isn't too different from that, I suppose." Then the Prussian grunted and let himself fall back onto his side again. "You women are such complicated, insane creatures," he muttered angrily. "Brand was jealous of you for a long time, you know that? She thought our marriage wouldn't work out because I had a crush on you in the meantime. Well, I sure proved her wrong, didn't I? Why can't women just accept that it's possible to love more than one person at the same time? And besides, Brandenburg is _dead._ I can go on loving her 'til the end of my days and still live every day on my own, lonely, no one who cares about me like that."  
Now why had he reminded himself of that fact? It left him choked up, his eyes pricking with tears, but he stubbornly bit them back.  
Another silence fell, after which Hungary whispered a soft apology to him. He could feel her lay back down again, back turned to him no doubt, but she felt tense. Though, of course, he could understand that much. "Do I need to worry about being next to you now?" she asked softly.  
"What?" he spluttered. "Of course not! Not any more than earlier, _before_ I told you this. Were you worried I would try anything then?" She mumbled reluctantly that, no, she hadn't been. "Well then, there's no need for you to worry now, either. All right? Goodnight."  
He had closed his eyes and, despite the awkwardness of his situation and his pain and frustration over everything else that had happened over the past days, was just about to fall asleep when Hungary's voice came again, softer and calmer now. "Prussia, are you still awake?" He hummed to let her know that he was. "I know that it's not in the same way you do me, but I wanted to let you know… I do love you too. Despite all our fights, you're a dear friend to me, and I care about you."  
…That was just enough to make him feel comfortable enough to really fall asleep.

* * *

The next day, once they got back to Berlin, Prussia immediately went to Ludwig. The boy apologized for his actions of the day before the moment he saw Prussia, and the kingdom went to hug him instantly. "I'm sorry, little brother," Ludwig whispered hoarsely. "I was just… so tired and frustrated yesterday. I shouldn't have said all those things."  
"You're not the only one who made mistakes yesterday," Prussia replied softly, holding him a little tighter. Then, when he let go of him again, he looked up at Austria, who had been sitting by Ludwig's bedside. Ashamed, he lowered his gaze to the floor a few seconds later. "Or made mistakes over 100 years ago. Austria, you should know that I've never been more sorry about anything in my life than when I killed Bavaria. I don't know why I did it. I… I don't even remember _how_ I did it." He swallowed the lump in his throat and finally dared to look up again, flinching when he saw Austria's cold, disgusted gaze. "I'm not asking you to ever forgive me; I know how much she meant to you. I'm only asking you to try and understand _my_ side in this. She killed Brandenburg, intentionally or not, and you know how much _she_ meant to _me_. When she died suddenly like that, I… I lost it. I don't remember most of what I did that day until you and Holy Rome –Ludwig, I mean- found me with Brand in the evening… Whatever I did, it was unintentional. I… couldn't control myself…"  
Austria kept staring at him, and for a moment Prussia feared he would be yelled at by his cousin, but then the aristocratic country sighed. "I'm not going to forgive you," he said. "In fact, I'll make it my life goal to hold this against you for the rest of my days –it is _that_ unforgivable." Prussia flinched again, averting his gaze quickly. "But," Austria went on unexpectedly, "I will not be angry with you all the time; that's just a waste of both our lives. So…" He sighed again and held out his hand to his younger cousin. "Let's call it a truce, shall we?"  
More relieved than he would've ever thought he would be, Prussia grabbed his hand, his lips twisting into a tiny smile. Then, without putting too much thought into it, he let go again and instead swung his arms around Austria. The Austrian was stunned for a moment, but eventually he chuckled awkwardly and patted Prussia on the back.  
"One of these days, we'll make the truce a permanent peace," he said, at which the younger kingdom laughed.  
"Yeah, right!" he snickered. "When you learn to be more awesome, maybe."  
"Or when _you_ learn to be a little more refined."  
"Hah. We'll see."  
"…Prussia?"  
The kingdom hummed in response.  
"You may let go now."

* * *

 **So yeah... People often unite when they have a common enemy. I'd say Napoleon is one of those.  
I don't think this truce between Austria and Prussia will last much longer than the napoleonic wars, but hey, that still gives them roughly another decade, right?  
**

 **Also, revelations! I had planned this for a much later chapter, probably near the end of Hope to Die even, but I suppose this works too.**

 **And just a bit of info that won't be in the story itself (as the disease wasn't known as a single disease until the 1830s): Holy Rome has tuberculosis. Caught it when he was still a nation, was too frail by then already to fight it off (quickly enough) and now that he's not a nation anymore... Well, we all know what's going to happen.  
Once again, I'm sorry.**

 **Anyway, in the next chapter the War of the Fourth Coalition is ging to start, and Prussia was a part of that. So... yup.**

 **I hope you liked the chapter (if only the ending)!**


	49. Chapter 49

**A slightly shorter chapter this time, but I don't think I should've made this one very long anyway...**

 **Thank you to SonoSvegliato (for that extra message, too, thank you so much! That was very kind), Vaetta, pinkdoughnuts, TheOldKaiser and MissiriKoharehn for the reviews. I am so sorry for all the angst...  
I know TheOldKaiser already found it (thanks for the review there, too!) but I wrote a little spin-off one-shot with PruBrand just to have something else than angst, because the next few chapters here will not have much else I'm afraid (I thought I could stop after Holy Rome's death, but then I read some history and realised how wrong I was... sorry!) If you haven't read it yet and would like to do so, it's called Vacation Time and can be found on my profile, I suppose.**

 **With that out of the way...**

* * *

 _30 September 1806_

 _It is unbelievable what having a common enemy can do. A couple of years ago I would've hated seeing the United Kingdom, Sweden and Russia on my doorstep.  
Today I welcomed them with open arms._

"We believe it's most likely that Napoleon will go for you next," England said to Prussia, sounding weary of the constant battles by now.  
Prussia snorted. "You think? What gave it away?" He tried to hide his stress by rolling his eyes with a huff. "Maybe the Rhine Confederation he set up as a buffer between us? That's land that he can move through no problem, _I'd_ be met with cannon fire the moment I set foot over the border no doubt. Also I'd end up fighting my family and I don't really want that right now, so…"  
Russia smiled at him, and once again it was his most creepy type of smile that sent a cold shiver down Prussia's spine. "Well, I'll be there to save your life again, all right? You'll be even more in my debt then, _da_?" he chuckled then. "I'll make sure you pay it off in full one day. With interest."  
"Yeah…" Prussia replied nervously, shoving away from him. "Good luck with that, Russia." Then he sighed and glanced at the clock, which sent his heart racing. " _Shit!_ " he cursed loudly, startling his new allies with it. "Fuck, sorry, I have to go take care of Ludwig now. Austria and Hungary aren't around today, you see, and we don't want humans around him because whatever he has might be contagious."  
He had already gotten to his feet, but then Sweden forced him to sit down again with merely his stern stare. "You can't exactly leave now in the middle of a meeting," he told the kingdom, who huffed and looked away angrily, knowing the older nation was right though. "He can wait, can't he? He's not going anywhere."  
"Except maybe Heaven," Prussia muttered under his breath, then getting an idea. Reluctantly he turned around and looked at Poland, who sat inspecting the meeting from a distance. He'd come here a year early now that Austria and Hungary were here, too. "Poland, hey," he began, "would you go check on Ludwig? Bring him water if he needs it, please try and get him to eat a little –he barely eats anything these days. If he has a fever, try to lower it." Then, with a glare, he added: "And you may hate me and Austria, but _don't you dare_ act it out on him. It's hard enough for him as it is."  
With a huff, the former kingdom got up and went to do as he was told, though not as reluctantly as he did other things –he seemed to feel bad for Ludwig, and maybe he was scared too, seeing what could also have happened to him when he got partitioned.  
But Prussia didn't feel comfortable with it; he preferred checking on his brother himself now that his health was deteriorating with the speed it was. He had lost a lot of weight, barely slept, complained about the constant pain in his lungs and coughed up blood on a daily basis. It couldn't be long anymore now.  
Scotland appeared to notice how he felt over this, and flashed him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure he won't die yet, laddie," he tried to assure the distressed kingdom. "It won't kill him to have Poland look after him instead of you for now, trust me."  
Prussia just sighed and nodded. "All right, where were we…?"  
"How you're going to repay your debt to me."  
"Russia, now's not the time for that," England grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. It wouldn't surprise Prussia if he'd gotten a headache by now; if there was one thing Prussia knew about England, it was that he liked order during meetings. "No, we were talking about how and where to station our troops and I mentioned how it's likely Prussia will be attacked. We might want to send reinforcements to his borders."  
"But won't France see that as even more of a reason to attack?" Sweden put in, frowning. "Prussia, you're good friends with him, right? How do you think he'll react."  
Prussia glared at him –he knew that had been a hidden accusation. "I don't know," he replied through gritted teeth. "He's not like the France I know right now. I can't predict his moves, except that he'll attack me next. When and where and how, I can't tell."  
Russia chuckled again, finding it all very amusing apparently. "If you want someone who really knows France," he said with a mischievous grin in the United Kingdom's direction, "you might want to ask his ex-husband instead."  
"What'd you call me?!" Scotland exclaimed then, enraged in a heartbeat –which came as a surprise, as he was usually a lot more patient for all Prussia had ever seen. "Let me give you some advice, laddie: _shut the fuck up._ "  
"Mind your tongue, Allistair," England sighed. The blonde kingdom then shook his head in frustration. "Oh, sod it, I'm done with this! Prussia, you'll have Wales and Ireland at your disposal on the mainland, Scotland and I will take care of any fighting overseas."  
" _At his disposal?_ " Ireland then muttered dangerously, glaring at his little brother through narrowed, icy blue eyes. "What, am I an item or something? You going to lend me to him? Fuck that, Artie."  
"Cearul, _please_ don't make a big deal out of it," Wales then pleaded with his eldest brother. "I know it's shit, but I've been going through this same thing for many centuries already; it's not as bad as it sounds, really."  
"I'll decide that for myself, thank you very much," the Irishman then huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his back on his brothers. "Free will like that is about the only thing I have left."  
"Can you keep the sibling fights for another time?" Prussia just interrupted them before they could say anything else. "Thank you. At this rate I could've just gone to check on my brother myself instead of sending Poland to do it."  
He fell quiet abruptly when he saw said former nation approaching with a tiny smile, and Poland's words sent Prussia's heart fluttering. "He's doing a lot better than the past few days," he told Prussia in a hushed voice after asking permission to interrupt. "He said he'd like to go for a walk with you today when you've got the time."  
This news warmed the kingdom's heart, and he couldn't help but smile at hearing this. He nodded and thanked Poland, telling him that he'd have the rest of the day off for doing this. The older man seemed surprised but grateful, and left without saying a word but grinning as he went. Prussia turned back to his allies, having completely forgotten their little conflicts earlier, and from there on the meeting went more smoothly than anyone had anticipated.

* * *

Ludwig was asleep by the time the meeting ended, so Prussia didn't wake him yet and instead went back to his allies to try and have a normal conversation with them. That went surprisingly well, until Austria and Hungary came back.  
Hungary had decided to give Prussia a 'talking about your feelings' therapy just to get him into the habit of doing so, and that meant that the first thing she asked every time she saw him was how he felt, and she would do so until he told her. This time he didn't resist for once. "So?" Hungary said as she walked over to his side. "How are you?"  
"Actually," Prussia answered with a smile in her direction, "I'm doing really well. No, seriously. We settled everything we had to settle," he said, gesturing to his allies, "and Poland told me Ludwig is doing especially well today. He's asleep now, but we'll go out for a short walk later on, see how that goes."  
Austria's eyes lit up when he heard this, and he smiled as well. "That's wonderful," he commented as he passed them and went to England to greet his old ally quickly. "I hope it goes well."  
Just before Prussia wanted to turn around to look at Hungary again, she gave him a soft peck on the cheek. "Good job, Gil," she whispered to him. "Keep that up." Then, before he could react, she and Austria left again.  
Once they were out of sight, Ireland began to chuckle, and when he turned to look at his group of allies, Prussia saw Sweden smirking a little and the rest of the UK was either grinning or snickering. It was only then that he realised he was blushing. Embarrassed, he spun around again, back turned to them. "What?" he asked them with a huff. "She and I have just made up again after decades of fighting and hatred, that's all."  
"Are you sure that's all?" Ireland then piped up, still laughing softly. "Sure you haven't _made out_ as well?"  
"Hah, if only," the Prussian replied, chuckling now too. "No, I've been thoroughly friendzoned, so that's a no go."  
"Aw," Scotland then laughed, looking at him in pity. "You must be the most unlucky guy on the planet right now." Then he gave the younger kingdom a 'comforting' yet also mocking pat on the shoulder. Then he flashed him a smirk and his pale blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he added: "You've got good taste though."  
Prussia then gave him a friendly shove. "So long as you remember she's _mine,_ " he warned the Scot, "just as soon as she breaks up with that sissy prick." He was about to change the topic again, as this was one he wasn't completely comfortable with quite yet.  
But then Russia decided to make a comment as well. "You have a thing for brunettes, don't you?" he said with his usual 'innocent' smile. Prussia just blinked at him blankly and said nothing. "Brandenburg, Hungary, Austria…"  
" _Austria?_ " Prussia then echoed, grimacing. Scotland, who had just gotten a drink, spat his tea over the floor and laughed so hard that Prussia feared he would choke. But Ireland, also chuckling, already took care of keeping his younger brother alive and breathing while Prussia stared at the Russian, thoroughly confused. "I mean… _Austria?!_ "  
"Yes?" Russia just mumbled, tipping his head to one side. "That's what he's here for, isn't it?"  
Prussia's stomach did a somersault at the mere idea, and with a cold shiver of dread going down his spine, he shook his head. " _No._ " Oh, just imagining it was making him feel sick. "Just… just _no._ He's here because I'm –and I know, it's a miracle- actually a nice guy and I've given them all a place to stay while Vienna's still a bad idea." He shrugged then, trying to calm himself. "Also, I'm unfortunate enough that when you get a Hungary, an Austria is included in the package. So…" Russia seemed to accept that answer, and didn't say anything else about it, much to Prussia's relief. But one part of the Russian's comment did intrigue him just a little bit, and he mumbled half to himself: "But considering my rather short track record so far, you're right about the brunettes thing…"  
Shame that he said that. Scotland had just managed to stop laughing again.

* * *

Later that afternoon, when Ludwig had woken up again, he and Prussia went for that walk after all. The smaller boy was the most frail-looking Prussia had seen him yet, and that meant something. But at least he didn't look so sick anymore now that he apparently had one of his rare good days.  
Still, Ludwig had to depend on Prussia for support as they walked, otherwise his weakened legs wouldn't hold him. His thin arms trembled as he clung to his younger brother's arm, but he looked happy to be walking, even if it was at a snail's pace compared to what had been his normal speed just months ago. "Thanks for coming with me, Prussia," the boy said hoarsely, smiling up at his brother. "I missed the fresh air."  
"Whatever you want, Ludwig," Prussia just answered warmly. "I'm done with working for today. Tomorrow I'll need to arrange a few last things with Sweden and Russia before they head back home, and then with the United Kingdom too. They're arranging for Ireland and Wales to help fight here."  
Ludwig nodded but didn't say a word. Instead, he sighed after they walked a little more, then stopped. Prussia looked down, asking in worry if he was feeling all right. But the boy nodded again. He looked up to meet Prussia's gaze and blinked calmly at him. "Can I ask you something, Prussia?" he asked softly.  
"Of course!"  
"All right then… Why are you so attached to me?"  
Prussia's mind went blank for a moment after hearing those words. What kind of question was that? He stood motionless, trying to think of a way to answer that question, but it was harder than he'd imagined. "You're the first family I ever had," he eventually mumbled softly, not wanting to look at his older brother now as he said this. "The Teutonic Knights, they raised me well and took care of me, but they never seemed to like me much with only few exceptions. Then they kicked me out, the closest thing to a family I'd ever had, just because of what I am. I don't think they understood what I was –a nation. But then, I went in search for help from the Holy Roman Emperor, and while I didn't get that, I got an amazing big brother instead." He smiled at the memories. How precious those years were to him. And how absurd that, back then, he'd thought his life was pretty hard already –in hindsight he'd never known what real suffering was like back in those days. That knowledge, unfortunately, had come just over a century ago, and he was still learning more about it every single day. "You took me in and became my family when I had no home and no one to turn to. I didn't need to win your trust, I had it from the moment you walked in. You were the first person in my life who was quite like that to me… And really, even now, you're the only real family I have in that particular sense of the word."  
Ludwig blinked slowly, nodding once after a short silence. "I see… But, Prussia, you have more family than just me," he then told the kingdom as he looked at him with a warm gaze and a tiny smile. "In fact, I believe we have the largest family in the world."  
Prussia let out a short, hollow laugh now. "Yeah, right. They all hate me."  
But Ludwig shook his head. "I know Hesse very well, and I can tell you he doesn't hate you," he said calmly. "Bayern doesn't, neither does Hannover I suppose. I admit, I'm not certain about Saxony these days, but Netherlands is fond of you, if you hadn't noticed. And really, how can Württemberg hate you?"  
Especially the last name stung, and Prussia turned away, angry. "Why else would he side with France, who's probably planning to kill me right now?" he muttered. "He said he'd never forget what Brandenburg and I did for him when he was little, but here he is, betraying everyone. Just like Bavaria."  
"I'm not any happier about their actions than you are," Ludwig reasoned, ever the calm one between the two of them. "But does that mean they hate you?"  
"Bavaria has reason to hate me, more so than anyone else does."  
"For giving him life?"  
Those words robbed Prussia of his breath. He'd never thought about it like that. But Ludwig just went on, smiling a little wider: "Yes, you killed Bavaria once, but this incarnation of Bavaria owes you his life because of that. He would never have been born, would never have existed if you hadn't ended his previous life. Are you angry at Lithuania for killing you when you were still his sister?"  
Stunned silent, Prussia shook his head. But he found his voice back just before Ludwig could say anything else. "But he did so accidentally," he protested, confused. "They fought and her wounds got infected. That's how she died, he told me. He never meant to kill me."  
"You didn't mean to kill Bavaria, either, but you did," Ludwig reminded him, then quietly asked if they could sit down somewhere. Once they did, the conversation just went on. "Prussia, why do you think everyone judges you more than others? It's because you assume everyone hates you that they will end up doing so." He sighed and then hugged Prussia, who still sat rigid. "Ease up a little, let other people in. That's what you did with Hungary, isn't it? And it works. She's trying to teach you to be more comfortable with others; listen to her. That's vital, you hear me? Because no matter how deeply attached you are to me, I won't be around much longer. You _need_ to let other people in."  
"And replace you?" Prussia asked, not wanting to hear any more of this, but staying where he sat.  
"No, if you don't want to not," Ludwig replied, smiling despite this conversation being about his own impending death. "But do find someone to fill my position in your life. I know you need me, but I can't stay much longer. I know people will adore you –if only you give them the chance." With a sigh, he leaned against Prussia, and the kingdom realised his moment of strength was leaving him; he'd probably have to carry him back inside later. "Did your allies today appear to hate you?"  
Prussia shook his head. "The entire United Kingdom seems to be all right with me," he said, feeling a spark of hope in his heart. "Especially Scotland, and Ireland seems to… well, he might even end up liking me if I don't screw up. Russia is his usual self…. Sweden never says much." But Sweden didn't seem to despise him as much as he used to. He still couldn't tell whether Russia's behaviour betrayed spite and anger or just truly a twisted form of friendliness. Realising this, he smiled and closed his eyes. "Okay, you have a point…"  
Beside him, Ludwig shifted. "Give them a chance, all right?" Then, suddenly, Prussia felt his older brother's hand on the side of face. He wanted to move away, but a split second later, he couldn't; Ludwig was slowly, carefully tracing the Prussian's right brow with his thumb, and something about that motion felt so familiar that Prussia couldn't move. But he couldn't think of anyone who had done something like this before.  
"What is…?"  
"This is something dad used to do," Ludwig answered softly. "Germania had all kinds of ways to calm each and every person in the family down if they were upset. This one didn't work with everyone, but it did with you…" He stopped then, and Prussia looked at him again. The boy smiled. "Sorry about that. That was on impulse…"  
Prussia smiled back at him again, shaking his head. "No problem. In fact, I quite like the idea that… well, that there's something I apparently _do_ remember about Germania." Before he could say anything else, Ludwig coughed harshly, leaving blood on his lips. Prussia's heart sank, and he got to his feet. "I think it's time to go back inside now. Come, I'll…" He trailed off and just picked him up as Ludwig coughed again, choking out a soft thanks between it all. Silently they went back inside, and Prussia laid Ludwig back down in bed, by which time he'd noticed the boy's fever had flared up again.  
Austria and Hungary came by also, talking with him a bit before he fell asleep about an hour later.  
And he never woke up again after that.

* * *

As Austria pulled a blanket over Ludwig's still body, Hungary turned to Prussia. She was biting her lip, tears forming in her eyes, but she looked at her friend as though she was silently asking for permission. He just spread his arms welcomingly, and she wasted not a second to hug him. She clung to Prussia as she cried, and the kingdom held her in silence, his eyes fixed on his brother, his mind blank.  
Austria sighed when he'd covered up Ludwig's body, then looked up. Prussia thought he could see a flash in his eyes as he saw Hungary in Prussia's arms like that, but if it had even truly been there, then it wasn't for any longer than a split second. As he was the most calm and collected right now, Austria was the one who eventually reminded Hungary and Prussia that they had to somehow inform the rest of the family of his passing, and arrange his funeral. He would be buried in Vienna, on his own request, so they would have to be quick about it.  
But then, after all that practical stuff, he too broke down. Only Prussia didn't cry for a moment yet. He tried, knowing his brother would want him to let out his emotions, but he couldn't. He truly couldn't.

After a little while, he left Hungary with Austria and went out of the room, to where his allies and Poland were gathered together, silent and solemn. England was the first to spot Prussia approach, but he remained quiet as the Prussian joined them in silence, sighing once. Even Russia had the sense to stay quiet now.  
Eventually the others started talking again, in hushed and calm voices, very carefully. Prussia enjoyed their company now. They didn't talk about Ludwig or the war anymore now, so they were a nice distraction from all those things. But they were considerate, which he also appreciated.  
Poland decided on his own to get some drinks for everybody, quietly got up and got back a few minutes later with a steaming pot of coffee. He handed them out silently, got a few soft mumbles of thanks. A little bit later, Austria and Hungary also joined them, with red-rimmed eyes but as calm as the others were. Hungary sat down beside Prussia then, hesitating for a moment but grabbing his hand eventually. "So, Prussia…" she began, but Prussia shook his head.  
"Not now," he whispered with a soft sigh. "Please not now."  
Hungary wouldn't give up yet though. "But Prussia," she insisted, sounding worried. "If ever there was a moment to talk, it's _now._ Please." Prussia's heart skipped a beat as she leaned in a little closer to him, her voice barely more than a whisper as she went on. "There's no shame in showing emotions. Look at the others," she added, gesturing to the Prussian's allies, who all seemed to try not to pay attention to the exchange between Prussia and Hungary. "They all know how you're feeling. You see it, don't you? All you need to do is say it out loud. You _need_ to stop bottling things up, Gil, I beg you. There's no need to worry about it –we all know what's coming if you do start talking. We all know what you've lost."  
Now Prussia turned on her, anger flaring up inside him at those words. "No, you do not," he snapped, his stomach twisting now that he was forced to think about what had just happened. "You've _no idea_ , Hungary, not an inkling!"  
Hungary flinched, quickly glancing at Austria as if she was asking for help. But Austria, softly talking to England, didn't seem to notice her, and she turned back to Prussia, taking a deep breath. From the corner of his eyes, Prussia saw Wales nudge Scotland casually, and they both seemed to be keeping an eye on the two younger nations from there on. "Then _help_ me understand," Hungary pressed on, whispering. "Please, I'm begging you… Talk."  
Prussia, feeling a lump in his throat, gritted his teeth and shook his head, averting his gaze. "Leave me alone…" he begged, barely audible. " _Not now._ " But as Hungary insisted, he grew tense. He could feel tears trying to well up in his eyes, but he fought them back. He knew she was only trying to help, but right now he just really couldn't handle this. Why couldn't she see?  
Eventually she drove him to the point that he got desperate. The others only glanced at them every now and then, but it felt like all stares were turned on them now, and it scared him. He couldn't appear weak in front of his allies, not when they were days away from war, not-!  
He was as shocked as anyone else at what he did next; Hungary flinched away, wide-eyed, after being hit away by Prussia. Part of her looked hurt, but she didn't look angry, much to his relief.  
But Prussia was.  
 _She was only trying to help, you fool!_ he snapped at himself, moving away from Hungary before he could do something like that again. _Now this is exactly what Ludwig tried to tell you –you must give others a chance before they will do the same for you!_ Shaking, he got to his feet, taking a few quick steps away from everyone. "I asked you to leave me alone," he choked out, voice quivering. Oh, God, he was losing control now… _Keep it together._ "Next time I do so, please just listen, for once in your life!" _Great, sure, start yelling, you screw-up!_ Then when the first tears got past his defences and dripped onto the floor beside his feet, he spun around and walked away at a quick pace. No one said anything, no one came after him. He wasn't nearly comfortable enough to take off his mask in front of this many people. Why did Hungary try to get him to do so? He would have to apologise to her… but not now.  
Not now.

* * *

The next morning, Prussia woke to a voice telling him to do so. As he grouchily blinked open his eyes, he was surprised to see sand, dry grass, a few weeds in front of him, and he realised he was lying outside on the ground. How had he gotten there? Then when more of his surroundings came into focus, he also saw where he was exactly, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. Sitting up, he found himself sitting in front of a stone with letters and numbers engraved into it.  
 _Margraviate of Brandenburg  
1157 – 1704  
_"Prussia…" came a voice behind him, and with a jolt the kingdom remembered being woken by this person. He looked over his shoulder to see Austria standing there, looking exhausted and sad. "Come on, you need to go home."  
Prussia stared at him for a moment, confused, but nodded silently and took his hand when Austria extended it to help his cousin to his feet. The albino's entire body was stiff after sleeping on the cold ground like that all night. Wordlessly they left the cemetery, Prussia glancing back only once. He didn't remember having gone here the evening before, falling asleep on Brandenburg's grave. But clearly he had wanted to be with her for a moment, away from everybody else. And then he recalled bits and pieces of what he'd dreamt –Brandenburg had been in his dream. And though he knew that this had really been a dream and not a true visit like she'd once done –they had been able to touch in this dream, after all- he was thankful for her presence last night. Because he knew with all his heart that this dream had still been her work.  
 _Thank you so much, Brand. Please be sure to help my brother a bit as he's still getting used to being dead now…_

On the way back home, neither Prussia nor Austria spoke, and once they were back, thankfully Austria said nothing about Prussia having slept on the cemetery, not to Prussia himself or anyone else.  
That day, King Frederick William III took Prussia's place in any further negotiations with their allies, giving Prussia the time he needed to arrange the funeral together with Austria and Hungary. To grief, also, but the Prussian simply didn't feel anything anymore. But this reaction to a major loss such as this had become familiar by now, and he knew his feelings would be back eventually, so he didn't worry. Right now he just took advantage of his numbness and wrote letters to all their family members, informing them of the Holy Roman Empire's definitive end.  
That evening they were already on their way to Vienna.

* * *

 **Did you know that people who are fatally ill usually seem to recover just a little bit before they die? That has always intrigued me somehow...**

 **(this entire part of the AN got deleted so here's a shorter version) Russia's comment about Prussia and Austria was a little shout-out to the PruAus shipper around here... I'm sure you know who you are ;)**

 **Also, did anyone else smell PruHun? I'm pretty sure it's still platonic on Hungary's end, but...**

 **Anyway, as I said before, there's a little something on my page here if you want diversion from the angst... (shameless advertising)**

 **Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!**


	50. Chapter 50

**Phew... got this done...  
Eh... I'm sorry (wonder when I can stop saying that?)...**

 **I _will_ write more sweetness and happiness as well, don't worry. I never leave a story without a happy ending (maybe one with a slightly bitter aftertaste, given, but hey, that's just dark chocolate ;) )**

 **Abc, you're back! (At least, I assume it's you? I'm so sorry if I'm wrong!) Pinkdoughnuts, luceaudrey, Scarlet Ships DarkTrout, MissiriKoharehn, vaetta, TheOldKaiser, ABCSKW123-IX (Abc?) thanks so much for all the reviews, favourites, follows!  
MissiriKoharehn, good that you mentioned that particular strip, I had forgotten about it... I kind of mingled it into this chapter, you'll see.  
TheOldKaiser... Mein Gott. Das war so schön (sniffs) Dammit, I'm not the only one who's apparently good at writing angst.**

 **(And a little extra: TheBlueAcid, if you're ever able to read this again and come across this chapter, I'm already thanking you for the feedback you'll undoubtedly give me on this and also for all the feedback you've already given. You're awesome!)**

 **Now without further ado, let the storm come... (Did I say storm? I meant the French)**

* * *

Little more than a week after Holy Rome had died, on 9 October 1806, the German family had gathered together in Vienna for his funeral, on the same day Prussia's army had planned to attack Napoleon's forces for the first time. In the end they had decided that the only real allies they'd have in this war was Russia, with whom he'd signed the Potsdam Accord during the previous war already, though Wales and Ireland were still in Berlin (making sure Poland didn't burn it down in Prussia's absence) and would stay there for the duration of the war to ensure a good exchange of information between Prussia and the United Kingdom despite not being formal allies.  
That the battle was due to start today had Prussia worried. All day something was stirring in the pit of his stomach, wondering when the pain would come. Saxony, who had sent troops to aid Prussia today, looked nervous too.  
Thankfully nothing happened yet in the morning during the funeral.

It was a beautiful but solemn ceremony, not half as grand as when a Holy Roman Emperor died, exactly like the former empire would have wanted it to be. The only thing they couldn't convince the humans who had previously been involved with the empire of, like Austria's emperor, was to bury him; Holy Rome got a proper tomb like anyone of royalty would have.  
It all went exactly as planned, not a single thing went wrong during the funeral, which delighted Prussia. At least his dear brother got a worthy farewell.  
Some people Prussia thought deserved to be here as well couldn't be present though; Italy Veneziano for one, had apparently heard about Holy Rome's death from France himself. That thought angered Prussia, but there was nothing he could do about it. Especially now he could do nothing, now that he had war to fight as well.

He felt that later, in the early afternoon when the family was in Austria's home to talk after the funeral that morning. It started at around 2 pm as mere stinging. He tried not to pay attention to it, but his cousins seemed to notice something was off. It took only minutes for Saxony to come his way with a worried brown gaze.  
"It's not going well for us, is it?" he said in a hushed voice as he pulled Prussia with him to where they could talk in private. His voice was still strong and stable, but his fingers trembled just the slightest as he grabbed his younger brother's shoulder. He seemed to forget the recent hostility between them for now, which came as a relief to Prussia.  
The younger kingdom shook his head. "What happened to the France who was only really ever good as support?" he muttered half to himself, sighing.  
Saxony let out a hollow laugh. "He got a general who knows what he's doing, that's what," he answered with a hint of a snarl in his voice. "Bad news for us of course."  
Prussia wasn't listening anymore for a moment; a spasm passed through his abdomen, stabbing him with pain before he could breathe again. Just before his pain faded again, it was also Saxony's turn. "We must look pretty pathetic, you and I," Prussia laughed dryly when it was over, though really crying was about the only thing he felt like doing. Hadn't he lost enough yet? Wars were about the only things he'd ever managed to win in his life. _Don't take that away from me also, for Heaven's sake…_ "Well, let's try not to be bothered by it too much," he decided eventually, looking back at where everyone else sat and talked. Bayern had started crying, Hannover was trying to comfort her. Hesse looked especially down, but didn't make a sound. He seemed to be a bit like Prussia when it came to emotions like these. Württemberg and Bavaria stood somewhere to the side. The two youngest members of the family were clearly being shunned, and for good reason. Helping France obliterate their family to become kingdoms… it was truly disgusting. Still, it hurt to see them like that, and it hurt even more to agree with the others for doing this to them. "We have enough on our minds here… Tomorrow the war will start, today is for Ludwig… for Holy Rome."  
Saxony took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "Well said, little brother," he mumbled, turning away and going back to where he'd sat before. Prussia looked at him as he left, dumbfounded. _A common enemy really does make miracles happen…_ Then he went to join Hannover and Bayern, who had just quieted down a little again, talking to them but not really paying attention. However much he wanted to dedicate this day to remembering the Holy Roman Empire, the increasing pain in his stomach from the battle lay in the back of his mind all day.

* * *

Maybe the battles were a good thing, because even the next day, when Prussia finished his preparations to go back to Berlin, from where he would join his army, it was hard to think about anything else. And that meant that his mind was not with his lost brother anymore. But he cringed as he saddled his horse and a strong jolt of pain surged through his left shoulder and down to his back, making him drop the saddle which in turn startled his horse.  
"Hey, shush," he choked out with a pat on the black animal's neck before bending down to pick up the saddle again. "No need to be frightened, girl, it's- _Ah!_ " Wonderful. He couldn't lift his arm up high enough without that pain searing his shoulder. Naturally, this time his horse let out a scared whinny, and moved away when Prussia tried to comfort her again.  
"I would be frightened if my master was in pain like that," suddenly came a voice behind Prussia, and the kingdom spun around to see Netherlands standing in the entrance to the stables, looking at Prussia with a blank gaze. Then he just sighed and walked over to his older cousin, wordlessly taking the saddle from Prussia and doing the kingdom's job for him. Then he just patted the black horse's neck much like Prussia had done, speaking to it in a soft voice. " _Kalm maar, meissie, het gaat wel goed met 'm."_  
Prussia watched as he whispered these words of reassurance to the horse, which had been a gift from Netherlands at the turn of the century for helping him out against France, even if it hadn't worked in the end. The younger country was telling the animal to calm down, that Prussia was fine even if he didn't sound like it. He wished that last part were true.  
When the horse looked calmer again, Netherlands just turned back to Prussia, giving the animal a last affectionate pat on her flank. "She's a Frisian," he told him with a smirk. "Speaking Dutch to her works better than German. Nothing beats Frisian, though, but I suppose you don't also speak _that_ language, do you?"  
Prussia just shook his head, grinning. "I'm awesome, but not _that_ awesome," he replied as he climbed onto his horse's back with some difficulty. It hurt, but he managed.  
"How many languages do you speak by now, anyway?" Netherlands just asked, turning back to the horse and stroking her forehead calmly.  
Prussia shrugged, but only with his good arm. "Haven't counted yet, but here goes then… German, Dutch, Italian, French, Latin, English, I understand Polish fairly well but suck at speaking it, I know some Danish and some Swedish, unfortunately know some Russian as well, bits and pieces of Spanish, I can handle myself in Hungarian…"  
"That's about double my list," Netherlands then interrupted him before he could say any more –though that was the end of his list anyway. "For me it's Dutch, English, German, French and to a certain extend Italian as well, I tried hard to forget Spanish and it worked pretty well, and I know Indonesian and Japanese."  
" _Japanese?_ " Prussia echoed with an impressed laugh. "Seriously?"  
"That's what you get when you trade with someone. But hey, that guy speaks Dutch now, too. I recommend you use Dutch if you ever meet him, his English is terrible. No need to thank me." The younger country smirked again, blueish-green eyes twinkling. "But for a trading hub like me it's normal to speak so many languages. You hardly trade with others and decided to learn their languages anyway for… For what? For fun?"  
"To kill time," Prussia answered, gritting his teeth in pain afterward, but only for a moment. He sighed then. "If you've got centuries, why not spend the years on something useful, right?" Gods, his shoulder felt like a steel plate instead of flesh and muscle, he was that tense. _What the hell is happening on that battlefield?_  
Netherlands just chuckled. "Right, I suppose that's true. But, say," he then added, looking up at Prussia with a lot more seriousness now. "You weren't going to leave without Austria and Hungary, were you?" When Prussia didn't answer, he sighed and shook his head. "Damn fool. You know that they're already preparing to leave? And they have a carriage –considering I just had to help you with a _saddle_ , I think that's better for you right now."  
Prussia looked at him a moment, then nodded and silently got off his horse again. Well, silently was his plan anyway. He nearly had his left foot back on the floor when another jolt of pain went through his body, and with a choked cry he fell the last part, hitting his head against the wooden wall. He curled up, cringing. " _Damn_ ," he choked out, clutching the throbbing back of his head in both hands. "Oh, that hurt… Very unawesome." And when he tried to stand, his right foot wouldn't hold him, as it had gotten stuck when he fell and he'd twisted his ankle. And then he just laughed. How unlucky could het get in just a few minutes? What would be next, breaking his neck? But really laughing was about the last thing he felt like doing now, but it just happened like that. The Prussian just took Netherlands' hand when the younger nation offered to help him up.

Netherlands then brought Prussia to where Hungary and Austria were preparing their carriage to go back to Berlin. The two looked up, pleasantly surprised to see Prussia. But simultaneously something flashed in their eyes when they saw the limp with which he walked. "What happened?" Austria asked, jumping down from where he'd been working.  
Netherlands grinned and answered for Prussia. "This clumsy fool," he began with a friendly pat on Prussia's back, "fell when he tried to get off his horse, hit his head and twisted his ankle. The reason he fell is less funny, though."  
Prussia was annoyed, but didn't stop him when he explained how the battles caused Prussia too much pain to even saddle his horse properly. Halfway through Netherlands's story Hungary grabbed Prussia's hands and gently pushed him into the carriage. He just told her softly that she shouldn't worry, he was fine. She protested, saying that he clearly wasn't, then went to get his horse from the stables to let it pull the carriage together with hers and Austria's instead of being ridden back to Berlin. Then, as Austria prepared the last things, telling Prussia to stay inside already and take it easy, Netherlands climbed in to talk to Prussia a little longer.  
His eyes were ablaze with hatred when he made a request. "Prussia, I know that right now might not be the best moment to ask you," he said in a hushed voice, "but do us all one favour: _kick some French derrière_. You're practically the last person in our family on whom we can depend for that."  
"Wow," Prussia huffed, chuckling. "So, no pressure?"  
"I'm being serious, Prussia," Netherlands grumbled, and the Prussian wondered where his cousin's good mood had gone. "He turned Württemberg and Bavaria against us all, he's turned me into a goddamn _kingdom_ and you know how much I despise royalty… Most importantly, he's taken all our freedom from us and he _killed Holy Rome._ He has to pay. Please."  
His seriousness robbed Prussia of his breath, and another wave of pain sent shivers down his back. "I'll see what I can do," he promised.  
 _But how?_

* * *

The idea of fighting France, taking revenge for what he'd done to the German family and what he'd taken from them was what kept Prussia positive-minded during the journey back to Berlin.  
But once they were almost home, after four days of travel, all his hope was shattered.

The three were just on the road after staying the night at an inn when it started. It was Prussia's turn to drive the carriage, but he brought the horses to a halt accidentally when he involuntarily tightened his grip on the reins. The pain came in waves, starting in his throat and moving all the way down to his abdomen. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain. But his muscles contracted, stabbing him all over.  
Behind him he heard a call. "Why did we stop? Prussia, what's going on?"  
He choked out his answer through clenched jaws. "Time for an early switch, that's all."  
The door to the carriage creaked open then, followed by a startled gasp from Hungary. "Roderich, can you take over for him?" she asked in a rush, jumping out of the carriage and walking over to stand beside Prussia. "There's another battle." Then when Austria stood beside them as well, Prussia carefully got down, doubling over once he had both his feet on the ground. Why did it hurt so much more now than wars normally did? He had a very good tolerance for pain. He could, hypothetically, be stabbed continually and continue walking if there was no blood loss standing in his way. But now he was already trembling in pain. What was wrong with him?  
He let Hungary bring him into the carriage, where he sat down, focussing on his breathing. Hungary sat down beside him, keeping a close eye on him. Just as they began to move again the pain went through him in another wave, stronger than before, and he grunted, doubling over. The carriage stopped again.  
"Everything okay back there?" Austria called, sounding anxious. "Prussia, if you need us to take a break, just-"  
"No," the Prussian choked out, unable to breathe for a moment. "I'm fine, it's just… Just go on, it'll stop again."  
Austria didn't sound very convinced when he replied: "Look, Prussia, I know what Napoleon's attacks feel like. There's no need to pretend you're made of steel, all right?" Prussia just huffed in response. This was going to be a long journey yet.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Austria decided it was time for the horses to get some rest again and he drove the carriage a little off the road. Then he jumped down and walked over to Hungary and Prussia. Once he stood in the opening of the door, he froze for a moment, an involuntary twinge of anger in his heart.  
Prussia lay on the small seat beside Hungary, curled up and either asleep or unconscious, his head on Hungary's lap. The woman was carefully and calmly running her fingers through his white hair, a tiny smile on her lips. The Austrian gritted his teeth for a moment, but didn't say anything.  
Still, he would've accepted this much more easily if he'd known Prussia _wasn't_ in love with Hungary.  
But all those thoughts faded to the background when he saw dark bloodstains on the Prussian's coat, just underneath his ribs. With a sigh, the empire walked inside and sat down opposite of Hungary, his eyes fixed on the bloodstains. "When did that happen?" he asked softly.  
Hungary looked up for just a moment, then stared down at Prussia again, eyes shimmering with anxiety. "About an hour ago," she answered, her voice hushed. "I didn't tell you because he wanted to keep going. He was quite adamant on it…" She then reached for the kingdom's coat and lifted part of it; it was open, something Austria hadn't noticed before. Prussia's shirt had been taken off and tied around his midriff tightly, stained with blood as well. But the stain didn't seem to be spreading, so the bleeding must've stopped.  
Prussia shifted then, woken by the voices and the movement. His red eyes were dull with pain when he blinked them open and gazed up at Austria. For a moment the two cousins stared at each other like that, silent, but then Prussia let out a shaky sigh. "Was it like this for you, too…?" he asked hoarsely, his voice barely any stronger than a whisper and still sounding dazed with sleep.  
Austria didn't really know how to answer. He'd experienced the same pain, yes, but Napoleon was obliterating the Prussian army at lightning speed, unlike Austria's. "Yes," he eventually mumbled. "Just weeks before we came to Berlin with you I was in this state, too. But Napoleon took his time with me compared to what he's doing to you, so it's not entirely similar."  
Prussia blinked at him, hummed, then closed his eyes again. Hungary stroked his hair for a little while longer, until his deep breathing betrayed that he'd fallen asleep again. Austria just watched in silence, but with anger flaring in his heart. Then, after those few silent minutes, Hungary got up carefully, moving Prussia off her lap. She glanced at Austria with a silent question in her eyes, then stepped outside, and he followed her.

"I wonder if we should go to Berlin," Hungary said to Austria once they sat side by side on the grass, looking over the hills in the distance. "With the French army this close to defeating Prussia as well –I just know he won't win this fight, he can't… Is it really a good idea to go to Berlin?"  
"Prussia wants to go there himself, doesn't he?" Austria replied, his voice strained and betraying some of his contempt, despite how hard he tried not to let any of it show. "And besides, his royal family is there, too. Most of them anyway. Let's just go to his capital, for his sake, and don't complain."  
Hungary glanced at him, confused. "And 'don't complain'? What's that supposed to mean?" When Austria didn't answer, she made a guess, and it was the right one immediately. "That was a comment for yourself, wasn't it?" Oh, she could be so insightful, while at the same time Prussia had proven that she could be so blind as well. Austria had guessed he had feelings for Hungary a long time ago, but he never spoke of it. "You wanted to stay in Vienna in the first place. You know, you could've just done so and let me and Prussia go alone."  
"Oh, yes, because that would be such a great idea!" His exclamation startled even himself, but he decided it was about time he spoke these words aloud to her. "Do you know you've been awfully close with him the past weeks? Ever since he made his little revelation to you." He huffed, but before he could say anything else, Hungary interrupted him.  
"You don't mean to say you're _jealous,_ do you?" she choked out, shocked and sounding angry. "There's no need! I love _you_ and no one else. But I just feel like I have my friend back, like he was when we were little. I just want him to feel like that again, too."  
"Because when you were little, you kissed him-"  
" _Only on the cheek."_  
"-and hugged him and let him fall asleep on your lap?" Austria went on, ignoring her interruption. "I'm sorry, but if _he_ wanted to be your _friend_ too, I wouldn't have complained at all. I know I can trust you. I've always been able to trust you. But the thing is, I've _never_ been able to trust Prussia." Now he went on quickly before Hungary could protest, but she didn't seem to want to say anything against this anyway. "We've always been on opposite sides, and it only got worse after Brandenburg died. He killed Bavaria, who was like a sister to me –if not really my sister. The very moment he saw his chance, he took Silesia and I _know_ he wanted to take much more than that from me –and I'm not talking about land." He was tense for a moment, but he forced himself to calm down. "It's also hard to forget how he broke both my legs and landed me in a wheelchair for some time. How he crushed your hand –do you remember how long that took to heal? How he took you prisoner in the Seven Years' War…" He fixed his gaze on the clouds, hoping they would help him relax again, but he wasn't done talking yet. "I can see that he's different now from what he was like then, I'm not blind. But I cannot trust him for a single heartbeat, and don't tell me I suddenly have to like him. It's never going to happen. He's done too many horrible things for me to ever forgive him."  
Hungary was quiet now, staring ahead without any expression in her eyes. But then she sighed and leaned against Austria, placing her head on his shoulder, and just having her close like this filled his heart with warmth again, making him forget his anger. "I know," she whispered. "But if we don't give him a chance, who will? And he needs us… you just as much as me."  
But it was so difficult to be there for someone who had only ever been there to torment him...

* * *

Two days later they reached Berlin. There had been no major battles for the Prussian army in those two days, so Prussia felt a lot better than he had on the 14th.  
The moment he got home, Queen Louise came his way, looking distressed. "Oh, Prussia, I'm so sorry!" she said, grabbing him by the shoulders and inspecting him thoroughly with her gaze. "I shouldn't have persuaded him to go to war against Napoleon! It must have been horrible for you –it was horrible for us. Have you heard about-? No, you were on the road, of course you haven't…"  
"Heard what?" Prussia asked, getting anxious now too. This behaviour was unusual for the woman.  
The queen took a deep, shaky breath. "On the 10th, we lost Prince Louis Ferdinand in Saalfeld. And just two days ago Charles William was badly injured in battle. It doesn't look good for him…" She was silent for just a moment, then swung her arms around Prussia, who just stiffened. He knew the queen was fond of him, but this was a first. "And to imagine how badly it must've hurt you on top of it… We're losing the war and it's me who convinced Frederick William to fight in the first place. I'm so very sorry."  
Prussia politely pushed her away again, taken aback by this news. One member of the royal family had been killed already and another might follow in his footsteps. With the last battle, Prussia had lost a considerable amount of blood, which was why he'd been dazed and tired all day afterward, so he must have lost a lot of people in that one battle.  
Still, when he saw the look with which his queen looked at him, he could do nothing but shake his head slowly and forcing a smile. "It's okay," he tried to convince her. "We'll manage somehow… That's what we're Prussians for. We're indestructible." Then, since his smile hadn't really worked yet, he smiled a little wider, adding softly: "The pain wasn't that bad. Nothing I couldn't handle. Really, it's not your fault."  
Louise took a deep breath and sighed, nodding, mumbling that she believed him and thanking him softly. Then she looked up, spotting Austria and Hungary behind Prussia, and she stiffened. "Oh dear, how unsightly… It's a pleasure to see you've come to stay with us a little while longer, Austria, Hungary." Prussia rolled his eyes as she instantly went back to queen mode. It was such a shame, he liked people acting like humans rather than an etiquette rulebook. "My apologies that we cannot give you a sanctuary away from war."  
Austria dipped his head. "We're not bothered, Your Majesty," he replied just as politely. "We are well aware of the situation all of Europe is in, and we know Prussia cannot possibly be an exception to this rule. We're all the more grateful that you would take us in despite the troubles you've encountered in battle against Napoleon."  
Queen Louise gave a soft answer to this that Prussia didn't really catch before she turned back to her kingdom and said she had work to do and would be on her way now. That's when Hungary walked up to Prussia and poked him in the side, which made him flinch. "The pain wasn't anything bad?" she asked dryly. "Good job, lying to your leaders."  
"What else should I have said?" Prussia asked, turning to her and meeting her accusing green gaze. "That I lay curled up and whimpering and bleeding like a pig? That's hardly reassuring, now is it?" He huffed then, looking away. "And besides, I still have this image as the unbeatable Awesome Me, I can't appear weak and unawesome even in front of her or my king."  
"If you say so," the Hungarian then sighed, walking ahead already.  
Austria followed her more slowly, stopping beside Prussia. "You might want to check on Wales, Ireland and Poland –hopefully none of them broke anything while we were away, or other stupid things like that." Then he too left, probably to go after Hungary.

It took Prussia a few minutes to find his guests and Poland, but when he did they sat down somewhere. As it was Wales and Ireland's duty to send information through to the UK, they could also tell Prussia plenty of things he had missed over the weeks he'd been away. But he didn't want to hear too much about it; he'd felt the most important parts, anyway.  
"So, if it's all right for me to ask," Wales eventually, fidgeting a little, clearly not too comfortable with the topic. "How… how was the funeral?"  
"It was fine," Prussia answered briskly, stirring his coffee absent-mindedly. "Beautiful ceremony, family got together without fights for once… the usual."  
"The usual?" Ireland then echoed, tipping his head to one side. Maybe it was because he drank his coffee 'the Irish way', as he called it (in his case that was one part coffee over three parts whiskey), but he was quite talkative and also a bit too blunt to Prussia's liking. "How many funerals like this have you been to?" This earned him a poke in the side from Wales and a warning glance from Poland, who told him under his breath to shut up. The Irishman however (and this convinced Prussia that either he was tipsy at the very least or very oblivious of what happened on the European mainland) didn't seem to know what they were referring to, but did mumble a soft, confused apology.  
Prussia didn't really pay attention to it. He was sick of reminding people of Brandenburg… by now it began to feel like he was just seeking attention. 'I lost my wife, best friend and dearest brother, have pity.' He had other things to think about, what with the war against Napoleon going this bad.  
"Well," Ireland sighed when the silence became too uncomfortable, "just know that you're not the only one who lost family. There are plenty of people who know how you feel right now, so…" He looked at his whiskey-coffee for a moment, a flash of grief in his eyes. "I kind of know what it's like myself, really… It's tough, but life goes on."  
"Really?" Prussia then asked, narrowing his eyes curiously. "On your secluded little islands where you're safe enough to live for thousands of years? Who died?"  
It was Wales who answered. "Most recently, the Isle of Mann," he mumbled, a hint of sadness in his voice. "We don't know what happened, but one day I went to his island and he was just… gone. Before that… our mother."  
Prussia could almost slap himself. He'd heard mentions of one of the Ancients, Britannia, over the course of the centuries. He'd never heard much about her though, and something told him he wouldn't get any such information now, either.  
Ireland looked more sad about it than Wales, though. "I was a child when she died," he said softly, taking a swig of his coffee, finishing it. "Wee lad, maybe 12 years old? And suddenly I had to be head of the family. She died giving birth to England, see… Wales was a baby, Scotland was maybe 6. That was really tough, too."  
"Yeah, well," Wales then muttered unexpectedly, suddenly angry. "Let's not go into what happened _after_ your so-called 'sad story'." From there on he didn't look at his brother anymore.  
 _…Let's not ask about that._ This was the right moment to shut up, if ever there was one.  
"Let's just, like, talk about something else, eh?" Poland then said, giving them all a cold look. "Before we all drown in sob-stories and… like, whatever's up with Wales." He then leaned in closer to Prussia and warned him in a whisper: "Don't let that one get anywhere close to alcohol. I've seen him drunk once, and it scared the living daylight out of me. Like, he gets seriously pissed off." He hummed then, sitting up again. "Maybe he's drunk this 'Irish Coffee', too, then?"  
Prussia chuckled at this.

* * *

The days after that gave Prussia some more peace of mind. There wasn't anything major going on to bother him on top of the basics of a war and his grieving for Holy Rome, which were plenty already. But all that momentary peace was lost again on the 27th.

Prussia sat alone in the gardens of the palace, playing his flute, trying not to think too much about everything that had happened over the past weeks. There was a light stinging in his chest, but he could easily overlook it.  
But suddenly the stinging increased tenfold, feeling more like stabs, and it overwhelmed him, coming so out of the blue. With a choked cry he dropped his flute in the middle of a note, doubling over. Within seconds he located the centre of the pain, and he was hit by a tidal wave of fear when he realised it was his heart. _They're in Berlin!_ He had to get inside, and he had to do it right away. _They're in Berlin… Is it a siege? An invasion?_ He reckoned the latter would bring more intense pain than a siege would, so he would probably find out pretty soon. He got up, bent down carefully to grab his flute, then half ran, half stumbled back to the palace. The pain was pulsing in his chest like a bad headache would, but much more intense.  
He tripped once, crashing to the ground hard, leaving scrapes on his hands. But compared to the horrible pain in his heart it faded entirely. _This can't be happening, this_ _ **can't**_ _be happening!_ The last time he'd felt something quite like this, he had lost his capital. That was when the Teutonic State's capital had been moved from Marienburg to Königsberg. Somehow he managed to get inside, though. Once there he collapsed onto hands and knees, wheezing in pain. _Definitely an invasion. Oh, dear lord, why,_ _ **why?**_ Mustering all his willpower, he scrambled to his feet again and continued on to the king's office, where he knew either Frederick William III or Queen Louise would be.  
Much to his relief he ran into Poland on the way there. The former nation stared at him wide-eyed, shocked and startled. Prussia wasted no time before explaining the situation in a rush. "Invasion," he choked out. "Got to get to my leaders… need to go…"  
Poland nodded and said nothing, just grabbed Prussia by the arm and pulled him along to speed things up. Also, in his rapidly deteriorating state, Prussia would undoubtedly need his help getting up the stairs, he said in a rush as they reached said obstacle. Prussia, out of breath and trembling, only nodded gratefully, and the older man carefully helped him up the stairs. Halfway he stopped however, frozen to the spot. Prussia glanced up at him, confused and frustrated because of this delay, but Poland's expression was unreadable.  
"Napoleon's in Berlin, you say?" he asked suddenly, voice emotionless and flat.  
" _Yes,_ for God's sake," Prussia choked out, trying to pull his arm free and go on alone if Poland wanted to dawdle here. "That's why I… ugh, I need to get to my king!"  
But Poland wouldn't let go, and with Prussia weakened by pain, he was the stronger one between them right now. Suddenly a grin appeared on his lips. "Well, that's a relief." Then, all of a sudden, he yanked Prussia back and let go of his arm, flinging him down the stairs like a ragdoll.  
The impact with the marble steps knocked the air out of Prussia's lungs and he gasped for breath as he half slid, half rolled down the last couple steps and onto the floor. He'd felt something snap in his shoulder, which had caught most of the impact, and the extra pain it sent through his arm, chest and back had him trembling in total shock for a moment, tears forming in his eyes before he could do anything about it. The kingdom then looked up at Poland, too much in pain to speak but sending him a death glare like none before.  
Poland seemed unfazed by it. "I've been waiting for something like this," he said coldly. "You had it coming, you monster, if only for the things you've done to me. Trying to kill me twice, betraying me, taking me off the map and forcing me to live life as your goddamn _lackey._ You deserve this tenfold for all you've done to me in life, let alone everything you must've done to others as well." He walked down until he stood next to Prussia, towering over him, and spat in his face. "I don't care what the French do to me when they get here, so long as _you_ get what you've got coming." He stood there a moment longer, then left without saying anything.  
Rage mingled with Prussia's fear now, sending a burst of adrenaline rushing through his body. He used his good arm to try and sit up, but it hurt him a lot to do so. His arm hung limply by his side, and he felt his head throb as well; he must've hit it hard without even noticing. Frustration washed over him, and with his entire body aching like that, he just screamed in anger.  
And while it wasn't his main goal –that had been to just let out the frustration- it did seem to alert some people. Seconds later, while the kingdom was scrambling to his feet awkwardly, two servants came running. They didn't even bother to ask what happened, and instead they helped him up the last bit.  
"Someone go tell the king that Berlin is being invaded," Prussia then rasped, glaring in the direction where Poland had left. "And that Poland needs a thorough punishing."  
One of the men nodded and ran up the stairs, while the other brought Prussia to the nearest chair. The kingdom clenched his jaws while he sat down, the movement hurting just as much as anything else right now. Meanwhile the human was inspecting his arm. "Can you move your hand, sir?" he asked worriedly.  
Prussia tried. His fingers moved without any problem, moving his wrist hurt more already. He wasn't even going to try his elbow.  
The human grimaced in pity and moved on to check his head instead. Prussia told him that especially the back was throbbing, and when the man brushed his fingers through Prussia's white hair and then showed the blood it left on them to the kingdom, he understood why. But, the servant told him, it was a tiny cut and didn't bleed much –he'd been lucky.  
It felt like barely 5 minutes before others came running in: first Hungary and Wales, followed closely by Austria and Queen Louise. The latter looked especially distressed. "Oh, dear lord, Prussia!" she exclaimed, sounding distraught and scared. "I'm so very sorry for all this. I shouldn't have-"  
"Once again," Prussia choked out, breathing heavily by now –the way his heart was racing did not only hurt, it was tiring as well. "None of this is your fault."  
Ireland then came in, a mild shock flashing in his eyes when he saw the state Prussia was in, then he said: "I've looked around quickly, but haven't seen Poland. It might be that he's fled."  
"Poland?" Austria then asked, confused, staring at the Irishman. "What's he got to do with this?" Hungary didn't seem to understand either.  
It was Wales who answered quickly. "A servant came running past us, told us that Prussia was in trouble. The invasion, but also that Poland had thrown him down the stairs or something… He then went to the king, and that's when I went to find you guys while Cearul went to look for Poland."  
Louise then turned to Prussia, her eyes shimmering with guilt still. "Can you walk?"  
He forced a grin, though it probably came out more as a grimace. "It's my shoulder that's out of order," he answered hoarsely. "My legs should be fine." But when he tried to stand, he flinched in pain. Still, he got to his feet again, though he stood shaking.  
"Good enough," Hungary concluded immediately, hooking her arm with his good one and carefully pulling him away, followed by the others. In the main hall they were met by Frederick William III's voice.  
"We're leaving," he declared flatly. "Napoleon has already killed one of our family and mortally wounded another. If there's one thing we know about him, it's that he'd be unpredictable if we let him come anywhere near us."  
Queen Louise went to his side, worried. "Where will we go?" she asked softly, grabbing his hand, probably for the sake of calming herself a little.  
The king looked at Prussia with a determined gaze when he answered: "Königsberg."  
When Prussia didn't react, everyone stared at him, Hungary seemed confused at his silence. _They probably think I'd be jumping at the chance to go to Königsberg,_ he thought angrily. _Well, anytime but now!_ "I say we should stay and fight," he snapped, straightening his back and raising his chin. "We're not going to let them take our capital, are we?"  
The king sighed. "Prussia, I would agree with you, but the state you're in already tells us that it would be hopeless."  
"Half of that is Poland's work!"  
"I don't care if it was Poland's doing or Napoleon's!" the human then retorted, raising his voice, which made Prussia flinch. "A good king knows when to fight, but he also knows when fighting would only cause unnecessary casualties! Sometimes it's better to back off when you've still got a chance. Or have you forgotten the grave error Frederick the Great made in Kunersdorf?"  
This got Prussia's blood boiling even more than it already did. "That wasn't _Fritz's_ fault!"  
"It kind of was," Hungary put in softly, and Austria nodded.  
The Prussian glared at them. "I can't leave Berlin in the hands of the French!" he yelled at everyone. "I'm _Prussia,_ for Heaven's sake, I _don't_ surrender! I fought a Seven Years' War against impossible odds and came out as the victor! And now some French army has beaten me in, what, 3 weeks?" He growled in anger and frustration for the lack of something better, knowing that they were right and they had to leave if they wanted any chance to get out alive. But he couldn't just leave this city, no matter how much he loved Königsberg and how much he'd missed it. "I can't go," he kept protesting, but more feeble now. "I can't. N-Napoleon will take over here and who knows what he'll do to her capital and Fritz is in Potsdam, close by, and she's here in Berlin and…"  
"She?"  
"…I can't leave her with _them._ " He couldn't breathe anymore now, frozen to the spot with sheer panic, and much dismay he felt his eyes pricking with tears. But he couldn't stop them. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything.  
While the others still seemed to be trying to figure out what he meant, Austria and Hungary exchanged a shocked and heartbroken glance. Austria just sighed and closed his eyes, at his wits end it seemed, and meanwhile Hungary came to stand in front of Prussia, grabbing his face in both hands and forcing him to look at her. "Prussia, they won't do anything to her," she tried to convince him.  
But he shook his head. "I can't leave her with the French taking over the city!"  
"They won't even know she's there, they won't do anything." Hungary's grip on him tightened a little as she grew more tense.  
"But France knows where she is!" He protested, feeling one of the tears trickling down his face now, followed by another one. "I can't-"  
" _Listen to me, Prussia!_ " Hungary then snapped fiercely. "Nothing will happen, nothing! Brandenburg is _dead!_ Fritz is dead –they're all _dead!_ And unless you want to end up the same way, you'll go to Königsberg right away, you hear me?"  
These words stunned Prussia even more than he already was, and he kept quiet immediately, biting the inside of his lip. Silent tears were dripping onto the floor, but he gave in. She was right. _I'm so sorry for abandoning your city, Brand…_  
The king then promised to arrange safe passage back to the British Isles for Wales and Ireland once they reached Königsberg, to which the two brothers answered that, considering the situation, they could be patient.  
Then, as quickly as they could, the Prussian royal family left for Königsberg together with the nations.

* * *

 **...Who else saw Poland's 'betrayal' coming? I mean I know he was kind of an ass in this chapter, but he had a right to do so, if you stop and think about it...  
**

 **Also, emotional breakdown coming on in 3... 2... 1...  
Yeah, Prussia's not going to hold out much longer I'm afraid. But after the rain, sunshine will always follow. There's light at the end of every tunnel, and it shines even brighter the darker that tunnel is.  
Whichever you like better.**

 **Ehm.  
Yeah.  
I'll shut up now.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading, and I sincerely hope you could find something to _like_ in this kinda-sorta onslaught of drama...**


	51. Chapter 51

**So eh... as I said, prepare for mental breakdown.  
But there will be a lighter ending, I promise.**

 **Thanks to pinkdoughnuts, TheOldKaiser and Polish reader for the reviews. Polish reader, I'm glad you like some aspects of my Poland, at least! Haha... especially his little rebellion against Prussia... I thought that one might be a bit of a touchy subject, but it worked out completely the opposite way! I'm truly glad! (And if you liked that, I don't think this chapter will disappoint)  
And pinkdoughnuts, if you liked his little breakdown already, I hope you'll love the massive one. Ehm... I'm not sure how you'd do that, though. But all right. (Then again, I loved writing it, so...)**

 **Anyways, let's get on with it, eh?**

* * *

 _9 July 1807_

 _I shouldn't have trusted Russia._  
 _I shouldn't have hoped France, my friend, would show mercy._  
 _I shouldn't have worked with Saxony._  
 _I shouldn't have let Poland live._

 _This is it. The only one I can trust, the only one I can depend on, is_ _me._  
 _They're all unworthy of my trust. And though they've been kind to me, how can I trust Hungary and Austria? They have reason enough to hate me. They will betray my trust too, mark my words._  
 _They all do._  
 _The UK? They almost caused my death in the Seven Years' War, my_ _allies._  
 _Spain? When has he ever shown any willingness to help or support me? My_ _friend._  
 _Netherlands? Asking for my help all the time. When will he help me instead? My_ _family._

 _Never again._

 _I'm done with this._

Prussia sat trembling, staring at the map that had been drafted. It showed all his territories and surrounding land. As he was watching, Napoleon drew a few lines on it.  
"These territories," he stated in an eerily calm voice dripping with satisfaction, "shall be ceded to Saxony and the Kingdom of Westphalia."  
Prussia's stomach twisted. Fertile land, many inhabitants. He glanced at Saxony, but his older brother refused to meet his gaze. He clenched his jaws to stay quiet, turning his gaze to France next. His enemy, his old friend, looked back at him, but there was no warmth, no pity, nothing in his eyes. Nothing but satisfaction to match Napoleon's. Feeling sick, Prussia looked back down at the map. But when Napoleon drew more lines, his nausea only got worse.  
"As for these," the Frenchman then added, "they will go to Russia."  
More people, more land. "Will there be anything left…?" he couldn't help but choke out, his voice barely louder than a whisper, rasping with fear.  
This seemed to amuse Napoleon. "Why? Did you expect to be given a different treatment than you did Poland here?" he asked, gesturing to said ex-nation. Poland had gone straight to Napoleon when he'd gotten the chance, meeting up with his own army, which had been fighting on the French side since the start of the wars. "No, you can keep…" He looked at the map for a moment, smirking. "…Less than half your land. For now, that is."  
"Also," France added, handing a slip of paper to Prussia, and the contents of the document made the Prussian's head spin. "You'll be expected to pay us 154,500,000 francs as tribute. Do you need me to convert that?" Prussia didn't answer. He knew more or less how many Prussian thalers that would be, and he didn't want to hear the precise amount. France told him anyway. "That's a nice 41.73 million. Good luck, buddy."  
The albino kingdom couldn't breathe and couldn't move. He could only stare at the numbers, the insane, cruel amount. Then Poland stepped up, looking very smug all of a sudden. "What's the matter, Prussia?" he jeered. "Not used to losing? Poor thing."  
Frederick William III sighed deeply. "Surely that is all you're demanding of us?"  
"Not exactly," Napoleon answered, looking directly at Prussia now. "As we do with all our fallen enemies, Prussia shall go to Paris for the time being. Also, we have information from a reliable source that Austria and Hungary are currently residing in Königsberg with your family –send them too."  
Prussia's head whipped around as he glared at Poland with a fiery hatred. "You _bastard!_ " he yelled at him. "It was you, wasn't it? I understand your grudge against me, but leave them out of this!"  
"Ah, but you forget," Poland then said flatly, "Austria took part in the partitioning, too. And let's be honest for a moment; he would get so _lonely_ without his _bitch,_ wouldn't he?"  
Prussia jumped up, leaping over the table and tackling Poland. "Take that back!" he screamed in his face as he kept him pinned to the floor. "Goddammit, take that back!" Without giving the man a chance to reply, he landed a punch in his face. But before he could punch him again, he was pulled off him, though as he was dragged away he did manage to kick him in the chin. The Prussian struggled and kept yelling at Poland, though. He wanted nothing more than to tear him to shreds right now.  
But then his king spoke up. "Prussia, stop this instant!" he bellowed at his nation, who didn't pay any attention and kept on fighting for a moment longer. "Prussia, will you show some dignity, for God's sake? We've lost, that's just how it is. Now take this loss like a man instead of screaming like a child."  
These words were finally enough to shut him up, and Prussia gave up.  
France assured the Prussian king: "Don't worry, Your Majesty, we are all aware of Prussia's short temper. It's hardly offensive anymore at this point." Prussia just glared at him for this.

"Prussia," Frederick William said in a hushed voice once they got a moment alone –probably the last for a long time. The king looked tired, defeated. "I'm so sorry for what happened today. We'll get it all back one day, you'll see." Prussia didn't answer, only looked away silently. The king went on. "I know I failed you in this war. I'm not the general my great-uncle was, I know it. But I won't risk your life on the battlefield. Now, while you're in Paris…" he added in a whisper, glancing around quickly. "If you can, try to gather information. But above all, stay safe. You hear me? I want you returned to us in one piece."  
Prussia nodded but still didn't say anything. He hadn't listened to half of it. Then France came, telling him it was time to leave.  
Prussia locked gazes with his king for a moment, his gaze blank. "Well… goodbye then."

* * *

2 weeks later Prussia was in Paris, and most of his family was there too. They weren't exactly made to work or anything like that, but they had absolutely no freedom. The ones who had joined France had the task of watching the others and making sure everything went smoothly in the absence of France himself. Bavaria and Württemberg didn't seem to take quite as much pleasure in it as Poland did, though.  
"So," Netherlands sighed as he sat beside Prussia one day. "Didn't work out as planned?"  
"Shut up," was all Prussia replied, turning his back on his younger cousin.  
But Netherlands insisted. "There's no shame in it," he tried to convince the kingdom. "We've all lost."  
"I never lose."  
"This time you did, like all of us." The younger country was probably trying to be kind and comforting, but his words had quite the opposite effect. Everything did nowadays. "But we'll get out of this. First we must drive Napoleon into a corner, and then-"  
Prussia got up, silent, and walked away slowly, his shoulders slumped.  
"Hey!" Netherlands called after him. "Where are you-? I'm trying to help out here, and I'm not even charging you for it!"  
But Prussia didn't turn around or say anything in response. He felt shaky all over, he was dizzy, nauseous and exhausted. He'd lost over half his land and over half his population, his economy had fallen deep. And now he was put in a humiliating position as this. He didn't want anyone's so-called help. No one ever really helped him, did they? They did the small stuff, yes, but just look at Russia and Saxony; they had fought by his side and now they had participated in taking all he had established for himself from him.  
And this time he had no one to turn to. Hungary and Austria weren't here yet (but then, could he really trust them? Hungary had only annoyed and embarrassed him with her 'help' and Austria still seemed hostile sometimes), Saxony had betrayed him yet again, the rest of his family didn't seem to care much, Poland would probably like to watch him writhe in pain.  
Holy Rome wasn't here anymore to give him advise.  
Fritz wasn't here anymore to support him.  
Brandenburg wasn't here anymore to love him.  
He was alone.

The Prussian was unfortunate enough that he wasn't alone when he got to his room –he shared one with Hesse and Hanover, and the latter was there too at the moment. He only said a soft greeting to his brother as he walked in but didn't look up from the book he was reading. Prussia said nothing, instead only flopped down onto his bed, which was actually quite uncomfortable, and turned this back to Hanover, who huffed at this. "Well, suit yourself."  
But though he said nothing, Prussia's mind was reeling. What could he do to get out of here? Was there anything at all that he could do? And when was the best time to start? Should he first take his time to recover from the loss of land and people, or should he get out of here as quickly as possible? Well, he already had one answer to the many questions in his head right now: he would have to depend on himself and no one else.  
Suddenly his churning stomach twisted painfully, and he felt bile rise in his throat. He had already hidden a large bowl under his bed for these situations, and he quickly grabbed that, leaning over it. He threw up some blood as well, but mostly just the contents of his stomach.  
" _Yuck,_ " Hanover commented cringing. "Very pleasant, thank you."  
Gritting his teeth, Prussia glared at him. "How about you lose half your land and people?" he snapped feebly. "See if you'll like it!" The he was cut off, and his roommate cringed and complained again.  
Prussia just lay down again, closing his eyes. All he wanted was some peace and quiet, and someone who complained about him being sick like this wasn't helping him feel any better. _Just shut up, all of you,_ he wanted to tell all the nations that were gathered here in Paris. _I'm so done with all of you. Just leave me alone._  
 _You seem to like doing that anyway…._

* * *

It wasn't much better during dinner that night. Prussia didn't understand why that rule was there, but there was a rule of everyone having dinner together. Probably to give the illusion that they actually liked each other. Prussia sat at a distance from the others. Bavaria and Württemberg sat together away from the others as well, just as they seemed to do everything together nowadays. The rest of the family wanted nothing to do with them anymore. _But at least you have each other._  
Prussia didn't really eat at all, only drank a few spoonsful of bland soup. He wasn't hungry in the least, and he hated the silence that hung in the air like a thundercloud which made him feel even more uncomfortable. Even more though, he hated the pitiful attempts some of his siblings and cousins made to start conversations.  
But most of all he hated Poland.  
"Well now, Prussia," the Polish man said from where he sat, staring at Prussia with a mocking green gaze. "Are you seriously planning to starve yourself? You barely ate this morning, too." It wouldn't be nearly as bad as it was if he didn't look so damn smug and pleased with it all as he said this.  
"I'm just not hungry," Prussia muttered in response, staring at his now lukewarm soup. "Get off my back, Polly. Like you even care."  
"You're right, I don't," Poland answered with a smirk. Then he got up and walked over to Prussia, continuing: "In fact, I think I quite enjoy watching you suffer as of yet. Because, _gosh_ , I do so wonder what it feels like to lose so much land. Oh, wait, I know how it feels." He stood beside the younger man now and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at him. "You think you've got it bad? You took everything I had and sent me to Russia. _Russia._ Oh, that was so much fun. And then I was Austria's little servant, then yours. Yeah, just go ahead and take all my land and all my people and then pass me around like an item!" He gritted his teeth, his body tensing in anger as he stood there. "For now, I'm still enjoying this. Though I suppose you wouldn't know what it's like to lose all that, so it's not like you know how I felt."  
"You have no idea," Prussia muttered softly, looking down so as to not look at Poland. "No idea at all what you're talking about, you piece of shit."  
"Oh, right," Poland then replied casually. "Your brother and Brandenburg. Wow, tough. Still, at least you have some land and some freedom left. You still formally _exist_!"  
"Poland, please," Hesse sighed from further up the table. "Don't make it any worse than it already is."  
But his warning came too late. Prussia knocked Poland away with his elbow, then jumped up, ready to land a couple punches on him. But Poland dodged quickly and retaliated with a kick against his knee. It was badly aimed and therefore didn't exactly do any damage, but it unbalanced Prussia. Poland took advantage of that by grabbing the arm Prussia had just stretched out to punch him and giving a hard pull, kicking him again at the same time to make him fall. The Prussian hit the floor with a loud thud, cringing. It surprised him that no one tried to stop either of them. But he got up again, still crouched on the floor when he used his leg to sweep Poland's feet from under him. Once he got Poland on the floor too, he tackled him.  
"Do you really want to continue where we left off in Tilsit?" Poland jeered, angry and sounding like he was in pain.  
Prussia didn't answer, and instead replied with a hard punch aimed at the older man's face. But Poland turned away and also pushed his hand away, making him hit the floor instead, and Prussia flinched at the hard impact with the marble.  
He wasn't nearly as focused and precise as he normally was in battle.  
Poland noticed, and took advantage of Prussia's sloppiness again the moment he could. He brought him off balance again, then thrust his elbow into the kingdom's stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. The point he hit was directly under the Prussian's ribcage, which always hurt ten times more than anywhere else in that area. He scrambled out from under Prussia, pushing him down as he did. Then the ex-nation stood staring a moment longer as Prussia, curled up and shaking in pain, lay gasping for breath. "Just so you know," he sighed angrily, "you're the one who attacked first, little shit." Then he left.  
Prussia struggled to stand up quickly, snatching a silver pitcher from the table as quick as he could and flinging it at Poland, but it missed, and the ex-nation didn't even look back or say anything, completely unimpressed.  
"Are you all right there, Prussia?" Württemberg asked flatly, not at all sounding like he was all that interested.  
But Prussia didn't say anything. Fuming, he stared at where Poland had left and gritted his teeth in anger. He was still breathing heavily to catch up on the oxygen he'd missed for a moment, but his mind was already with the continuation of this fight. He grabbed a silver knife from the table then, going after Poland, hearing a few shocked whispers in the dining room. But he didn't slow down.

Eventually he found Poland again and called out to him. The blonde man just turned around with a sigh. "Aren't we done yet?" he asked, sounding tired all of a sudden. "Much as I despise you, I don't want to fight again. Maybe tomorrow, though. Come back later."  
But Prussia walked over to stand in front of him, tightening his grip on the knife. "I'm not asking you to fight me," he snapped, and now Poland saw the knife and something of fear flashed in his green eyes. "I'm asking for an execution, quick and simple."  
Poland already took a step back and tensed, his eyes fixed on the knife. But he seemed even more shocked when Prussia handed it to him.  
Prussia felt numb when he tilted his head back a little, exposing his throat. "Go on. I know you'd love to do it." He was shaking for a few seconds, wondering desperately what he was doing and saying, but his fear faded quickly and left only a warm feeling of acceptance. _I want this._ "Well? What are you waiting for?" _Kill me. Kill me, please._  
But Poland, wide-eyed, shook his head. "You're crazy," he choked out. "I hate you, but that doesn't mean I want you to die, you… I don't want to _kill_ you." He took a step away from Prussia, but still held the knife in his grasp. "If I saw you dying I don't think I would still try to keep you alive like I once did," he said, his voice quivering as he spoke. "But that doesn't mean I'm willing to have your blood on my hands. I won't, you little shit. I won't kill you."  
With every word he spoke, Prussia got more angry. "Then I'll do it!" he roared, enraged, grabbing the hand Poland held the knife in and placing it against his throat.  
But just as he did so, he heard a voice call out behind him. " _Prussia!_ What are you doing?!"  
Poland wrenched his hand loose from Prussia's grasp, dropping the knife. "He's gone insane, that's what!" he answered, sounding shaken by it. "H-he asked me to kill him, the damn bastard!"  
"And why won't you?!" Prussia yelled at him, barely able to breathe, his emotions choking him. He had officially lost everything now. Everyone he really cared about and also cared about him, the trust of others and the ability to trust them, and now he'd lost a war this major in no time at all and lost everything he had fought so hard for. What more could he lose?  
Death would be a gift at this point, to be reunited with those he'd loved and lost.  
Poland was freaking out over it though, just like the others who had come after him now did. "Because I'm not a murderer!" he answered in a high-pitched, distressed voice. "For God's sake, Prussia, get a grip on yourself! You're scaring even _me_ with this."  
Prussia then felt a tug on his shoulder, and he was turned around by someone, to be met with the sight of Saxony standing in front of him. The older country held him by the shoulders and shook him angrily. "Goddammit, Prussia, are you such a sore loser that you'd-?!" He broke off abruptly, staring at his younger brother wide-eyed, stunned silent. "Are you…?" He then let go of Prussia, shocked, and the Prussian collapsed onto his knees, sobbing.  
"What the Hell?" Poland then commented, utterly confused. "Now what are you crying for, you-?"  
"That's enough Poland!" Much to everyone's surprise, it was Württemberg who said this. The young teen stepped forward and knelt down in front of Prussia. More softly, he added: "Can't you see he really can't take your bullshit right now?" With a quivering sigh, he then reached out to touch Prussia's cheek lightly, but the kingdom hit his hand away.  
" _Stay away from me!_ " he cried out, glaring at the boy who had betrayed his family. "He killed Holy Rome and still you join him? You… _damn traitor_!"  
Württemberg flinched, regret flashing in his eyes, but he backed off, leaving Prussia alone again. No one else dared to go to him anymore now, either, or else they didn't care, even though the hall was getting crowded with nations by now, all gone after Prussia probably to stop him from killing Poland or out of curiosity once they heard this commotion. And they all just watched him break down right in front of them. "You're all so _blind!_ " he cried, glaring at them. "Have you ever bothered to wonder how I felt all this time? _Have you?_ " No one answered, and Prussia just screamed at them: " _DAMN YOU ALL!_ Why?! Why does _no one_ ever give a shit about me?! I tried, I tried _so hard-!_ " Desperate now, he stared at them. Hanover looked shocked but said nothing, Württemberg had tears in his eyes listening to this outburst of emotion, Hesse looked calm and Saxony didn't seem to know what to do right now. All others had a similar look about them now. But no one made a move. "I'm your _brother,_ remember?" Prussia cried, fighting for breath as his eyes kept on overflowing with warm tears pricking in them. "I'm your _cousin._ W-why do some of you treat _Hungary_ more as family than _me,_ your actual blood relative? W-why must I always, _always_ be the outsider? I-is it my albinism…?" No one answered, but some of them shook their heads slowly, though not really as a reply to that but more in disbelief at what they were hearing. "You… you think I'm still Baltic, don't you? T-that I'm not your family, that Germania only adopted me?" He broke off in a sob, remembering when Spain and France had suggested that possibility in their drunk states back then. Was it true? "Because I've never really been part of the Holy Roman Empire with you, is that it? M-maybe it's because I wasn't born as a true country?" Their silence broke his heart, and he whimpered. " _WHY?_ Don't you have any reason at all?"  
After an almost silent moment, in which the only sound was Prussia's crying, a soft voice said tentatively: "Don't cry big cous…" Prussia looked up to see Southern Netherlands, a petite girl of about 11 years old, standing in front of him. Netherlands stepped forward, wanting to call her back, but he stopped himself. South wrapped her arms around Prussia, who fell instantly silent at this, choked up. "You're really nice," the young girl said as she held him. "I mean, you help my big bro sometimes and he gave you one of his horses and he doesn't just _give_ things to everyone –he only doesn't ask money if he likes that person a lot." Netherlands blushed a little at this, embarrassed, but didn't say anything against it. "And you're friends with big brothers France and Spain, too, so you must be really really nice. Also, I heard big cousin Saxony say that he's jealous of you. And Württemberg talked to Bavaria about you the other day, how he liked playing with you when he was little."  
By now Prussia's eyes were flooding with tears again. But still little South went on. "While we're here in Paris together," she said, letting go of him again and looking him in the eyes, "may I get to know you better?" Then there was an excited shimmer in her eyes, and she added in a whisper: " _Wow,_ your eyes are like rubies! So pretty."  
This time it was Prussia who swung his arms around her, but she hugged him back as he cried again, this time in gratitude. Why was a little girl who barely knew him all it took to feel better? He'd only ever seen her a few times and they had never talked much, so why did she know exactly what to say to him? And judging by the looks the nations she'd mention gave him, she had spoken the truth about them and what they had said about Prussia.

* * *

That evening Austria and Hungary arrived. By then Prussia had calmed down a lot, though for now he still preferred some solitude after his breakdown. He hadn't meant for that to happen, but now that it had, it came as a relief. His family had taken him to a place where they could sit and talk, and while the emotions were still rushing through his body like that, he took advantage of this moment when his mind wouldn't shut down as he tried to talk about the things he'd kept to himself so long. He told them how much Brandenburg had meant to him and how much he still missed her every day. Württemberg got sad at this, too, telling Prussia that he remembered how he'd believed her to be his mother for a little while, and how he sometimes still felt like that. He missed her too. Saxony joined in, talking about how he'd always loved to tease her because her replies were always so funny. Yes, they'd had their fights, but that's what family did. Hesse then told Prussia how he'd known the girl since she'd been only weeks old, and he had always been fond of her, though they had never been really close.  
"Fritz was the one who helped me after she had died," Prussia had explained softly. "He was like a little brother when he was little. When he was older, he'd by some miracle transformed into a father figure… He knew me. _Really_ knew me."  
"I'd bet," Saxony had then commented, a mischievous shimmer in his eyes. But his voice was soft and respectful for once, instead of teasing or even mocking as he could sometimes be. He was serious about this, and Prussia could accept that.  
The kingdom smiled warmly at the memories Saxony was referring to. "Yeah, that too… We had a… unique relationship. But it was exactly what I needed after losing Brand, and then he… he too…" He trailed off, but everyone understood. Prussia sighed. "Holy Rome was the last person whom I could confide in like that. Who understood me and actually showed that he cared. When he died, I…"  
Hanover sighed, nodding slowly. "I understand… now. So your, ehm… your attitude was just-?"  
Prussia nodded.  
"I must admit," Hesse then said hesitantly, "I did always see you as the outsider in our family, sometimes still do. But that's because I'd met the original Prussia a few times, and it was hard to imagine that she was now, in her new life, part of our family. It's not because of your albinism or because you were a region when you started out," he added when Prussia sighed. "I would never judge you like that for your appearance, and if anything, it's impressive how far you've gotten, considering where you started."  
"Little South was right when she said I'm sometimes jealous," Saxony confessed, chuckling awkwardly. "You've achieved so much in your life, Prussia, and you did it all on your own strength. Once you were my little brother who needed my help. Then you became my little brother whom I could not beat no matter how hard I tried. It's frustrating how you seem to have surpassed me…"  
Prussia smiled at this, proud of that. But then he took in a deep, shaky breath and exhaled slowly, sighing. "Then why does no one ever talk about these things?"  
"See, now there's the proof that we're most definitely family and there's nothing Baltic about you," Hesse answered with a warm smile. "That's something our family unfortunately does; just like you, Prussia, we don't really talk… Maybe we should. You also proved what consequences it can have to keep everything inside, hidden."  
Saxony nodded, agreeing to this. Then he grabbed Prussia's shoulder in one hand, looking him deep in the eyes. "We may look and act indifferent," he told him, "but we never are. We're family and we care about everyone." He then turned to Württemberg and Bavaria. "That goes for you, too."  
This seemed to cheer the two younger boy up again, as they had been a bit downcast before.  
It was at that moment that Austria and Hungary came in, staring at their family in confusion. They glanced around, and everyone else stared back at them, silent. Eventually it was Austria who spoke. "What did we miss?'  
Saxony shrugged and said in his usual casual way: "Oh, not much. The usual, actually: there was an epic fistfight and then Prussia became suicidal. Nothing new."  
The way he said this made Prussia laugh, which only confused the two more. Hungary freaked out at the part of him being suicidal, though. "What-? Oh my God… Gil…" She stood staring at him a moment longer, then practically tackled him to hold him in a tight embrace.  
Hanover chuckled now. "Well, it seems like you've got even more people who care about you, Prussia," he said jokingly, though his words couldn't be more true.  
Prussia didn't answer immediately, and instead first hugged her back, promising her that it had been a spur of the moment thing. It had all become too much, but he'd never really kill himself –or have himself killed. He was too awesome to die after all.  
"That had better be true," Hungary choked out, holding him a little tighter. "All these years, all these _centuries,_ you've been my little buddy. We've fought and we will fight again, but I don't want to lose you. Not ever. I enjoy fighting with you… and making up again after that."  
"Likewise," Prussia answered softly, breathing in her scent. Having been in a carriage for a long time, probably, she smelt of horses a bit, but not in an unpleasant amount. It took him back to when he'd first met her and she had smelt like this nearly every day. For a moment he couldn't stop himself, and he didn't want to. He tilted his head and kissed her on the cheek, gentle and lovingly, then whispered: "I love you…"  
"I know," she whispered back, letting go of him. "And I'm… I'm honoured that you do. I never thought anyone would love me quite like this, and then two people do." When she stepped back to stand beside Austria, Prussia was glad to see that this time there was no anger in his cousin's eyes over this little exchange between the two friends.  
The rest of the evening, Prussia remained a bit uncomfortable, but that was more because of the sheer embarrassment over his outburst than being among his family this time. Because this time his family was considerate enough to, though carefully, actually show an interest in him. In that one evening, he learned a lot about his family members that he hadn't known yet, personality-wise mostly, and they seemed to learn about him and each other too.  
 _So maybe this was a good thing after all._

* * *

Weeks passed after that, and not just Prussia, but the entire family seemed to grow closer than they had been in all the time they'd been united under the Holy Roman Empire. And though he wanted to forget everything to do with his emotional breakdown, from which he was still slowly recovering mentally, it made Prussia proud to think that this was because of him, even if just a little bit.  
"Maybe you were right, Holy Rome," he sighed one day when he got some peace and solitude. He enjoyed his family's presence a lot more now than he did at first (and even Poland kept his remarks to himself now, and in return so did Prussia) but he still liked being alone from time to time. It was what he was used to, and it gave him space to think and come to terms with the recent changes made in his life. He lay on his back in the grass, under the skin-protecting shade of a tree, his eyes closed. "All those years ago you told me you believed I could unite our family… Perhaps you were right after all."  
But then, his dear big brother had been right about a lot of things. Not a day went by that Prussia didn't miss him, even though he had been apart from Holy Rome much longer than this before. The knowledge he would never see him again, not until he himself died anyway, made it a lot more painful to think about him.  
He was beginning to think he would never stop missing Brandenburg and Fritz. But then, the way he missed them only ever hurt like the way he missed Holy Rome did when he really needed them. On other occasions it was just a dull pain in his chest, not unlike an old and badly-healed injury, an empty feeling in his chest. The worst of the pain was long gone, just like them.  
Holy Rome's death was definitely the worst thing on his mind right now, and also the land and people he'd lost. Even after this many weeks, he still felt weak and sick most of the time. He would really have to do something about that, find a way to take back all that he'd lost. With interest.  
"Making yourself at home, _Prusse?_ " suddenly came a familiar voice. Normally it would've made him happy to hear this voice, but now it sent a cold shiver down his spine and he jumped to his feet. France stood at a little distance, watching him calmly.  
"You're not really giving me any other choice if I don't want to feel like the prisoner I am, are you?" Prussia retorted, his body tensing. "When did you come back anyway?"  
"An hour or so ago," France answered. There was none of the malice in his voice that Prussia had heard in Tilsit, during the treaty in which the empire had stripped him of so much land. Instead he acted more like the France he'd been friends with, but more careful. Then he fumbled under his coat, revealing a flute. _Prussia's_ flute. "I found this in Berlin," he explained softly. "You must've dropped it… It was damaged so I had it repaired for you. One or two scratches are still visible though."  
Prussia stood staring at him a moment longer, then stomped over his way and snatched the flute from his hands, glaring at him. "And you expect me to thank you for this?" he snapped. "Get lost, asshole."  
France seemed taken aback by this and narrowed his eyes angrily. "I just know how much that thing means to you," he answered indignantly, "so I made sure you got it back."  
Prussia wordlessly turned around and walked away, shoulders tense with anger, but France called after him. "Prussia, I understand that you're angry about the war and all that, but there's no need for this! There's a difference between... Well..."  
"Well... _what?_ " Prussia retorted, spinning around again and glaring murderously at him, waiting for his reply.  
The Frenchman sighed. "That we are nations, Prussia, doesn't mean we aren't people, too. Try to keep your personal life and your nation life -bussiness if you will- seperate." He looked down then, not daring to meet Prussia's hateful gaze. "In your position, I would hate the nation France, too. But you're good friends with the person France, remember?"  
But Prussia only gritted his teeth, huffed and turned away again. Some nice ideology, being able to keep personal life and nation life seperate. He couldn't do it, not now at least.

That night the Germanic family gathered together again, with the exception of Württemberg, Bavaria and also Saxony, who acted particularly meek and obedient around France now.  
Prussia sat down calmly, looking at the rest of the family. Hesse and Hanover appeared to be taking the lead now, so he turned to them for information. "Can you tell me why I'm here and not in bed?" he asked them with a yawn. "It's past midnight, unawesome jerks."  
"Oh, I'm sorry that you won't be getting your beauty sleep tonight, Prussia," Hanover said, rolling his eyes. Then he crossed his arms over his chest, and looked a lot more serious again. "This is something that you'll like, I have no doubt, so shut up and listen."  
Hesse cut right to the chase once Hanover had gotten Prussia silent. "We need to do something about France," he began, adressing everyone around him. "Hanover and I figured that now is a good time to discuss how we'll go about it. So if anyone has any ideas, now would be a good time."  
Everyone looked at one another for a moment, silent. Netherlands was the first to speak up. "The strength of the French army lies in its leader," he stated. "And while killing Napoleon would be a good idea, of course, I'm not going to suggest that; there would simply be too many complications if tried to do so. No, what I mean is... if we want to win against the French, we'll need a general of our own to match theirs. Smart, quick-thinking, confident on the battlefield."  
The moment he finished saying that, some others turned to look at Prussia, and everyone else soon followed their example. And while he loved being the centre of attention right now, of course, it also kind of unnerved Prussia. " _Me?_ " he choked out, confused. "The guy who lost against France in about 3 weeks? _Seriously_?"  
Netherlands shrugged. "Well, I did more or less describe you just now, so yes."  
Hesse nodded, agreeing with the young Dutchman. "You are the genius among us, Prussia," he told the white-haired kingdom, looking him in the eyes. "So you had some tough luck, so what? We've all seen plenty of proof that you are the best candidate. And let's be honest, in those weeks, did you create any tactics at all, what with you having to care for Ludwig in his last days and arranging the funeral?"  
Prussia silently shook his head. No, now that he thought about it, he hadn't really been involved in the war other than feeling every loss.  
"Well then," Hanover said. "That's settled, then. Prussia shall be our General."  
"But even with a 'genius' like Prussia to develop our strategies," Bayern then put in, still not convinced, "what can we do? We're locked up here without access to our leaders, our armies, anything at all! Napoleon makes no mistakes, none. How are you planning to stand up to him?"  
"But he has made a mistake," Prussia answered calmly, looking at her with an even gaze. "Maybe the greatest mistake he's ever made: _he placed us together_." He then gazed around at the others as well, who were silently listening to him. _They're already treating me as their leader,_ he realised with a pang of pride. _That's right, put your faith in the Awesome Me._ He didn't even have to think before speaking his next words. "He may believe he's safe, putting us all together like this. That we cannot work together, as proven by how the Holy Roman Empire never worked out. And frankly, he's right. But I've seen what having a common enemy can accomplish in people. Hell, I even signed an alliance with Russia and have a personal truce with Austria, and if that isn't a miracle, I don't know what is." Some people chuckled softly at this, and Prussia cracked a small smile as well before continuing. "Just the fact that we can sit here together and talk about this means that we're further than we ever have been. You really think we're going to just sit by and have some prissy Frenchies shitting on us like this? That we'll take their orders like good little countries? For God's sake, they've got _Roman_ blood and we're _Germanic_! That should be your answer! We've dealth with these sissy southerners before and we drove them out until their _mighty_ empire collapsed, and I'll be _damned_ if we cannot do it again!"  
To his surprise, but also much to his delight, some of his cousins actually started cheering over this. He caught a surprised and slightly agitated glance from Austria, as if his cousin was actually jealous of him right now. Prussia just grinned. Austria had been trying to unite the family in Holy Rome's name for so long and failed, and here Prussia had managed this over the course of a few weeks. _That's right,_ the Prussian wanted to say, though he knew it would completely ruin the moment and that wouldn't go down well with his cousins and siblings, so he kept it to himself. _If you still had doubts that the Awesome Me was better than you, Austria, here's your proof._

They discussed these things for an hour longer until they decided they should go to bed, because if they overslept the next morning or something along those lines, it would no doubt be suspicious. But for the first time in a very, very long time, the German family was working together out of their own free will, without their leaders having antyhing to do with it.  
And Prussia loved it. All his life he had put his faith in the Holy Roman Empire, believing that it could keep his dysfunctional family together, and never had it worked out. And now, here, in their shared prison, they were finaly truly uniting. He hoped that it would last after Napoleon's reign ended.  
For now, at least, he finally believed that he could still mend his torn-up, damaged heart.

* * *

 **Oh well... I hope you liked this chapter!**

 **Yes, all right, Poland by now really hates Prussia. Like, _really_ hates him. But just as in previous chapters... he'd never kill him over it.**

 **Thanks for reading once again!**


	52. Chapter 52

**Oh wow, there's so much going on in this chapter...  
Sorry if it's messy.**

 **A massive thank you to Abc (still assuming it's you?), vaetta, pinkdoughnuts, Polish reader, MissiriKoharehn, Guest and for the reviews and the favourite!**

 **Well, here goes:**

* * *

 _2 July 1808_

 _Plans are going well. All I need to do now is get out of Paris and meet up with Russia to let my army and his know what I've learned in my time here.  
Thankfully, my pathetic situation comes in handy now.  
I'll be awesome, for my family's sake._

Hanover went to France one morning, worry sparking in his eyes. The Frenchman, who was due to leave again in a few days, looked surprised: aside from his few allies, the Germans never wanted to talk to him, which he could understand and which he respected. They especially never came to him with their problems and worries, acting like the proud and strong people they were even here.  
But here Hanover was, fidgeting a little before he spoke. "France," he began "I've come to ask… request… that…" France was intrigued immediately. What was he so nervous about? That wasn't like him. Then Hanover took a deep breath and tried again: "Please allow Prussia to return home," he blurted out, much to France's surprise. "It's been so long already, and he's sick _again._ He would do much better within his own borders."  
France blinked calmly, though he felt a twinge of worry now, too. But this was against the rules Napoleon had set for the German countries. "I… had not expected _this_ ," he admitted, narrowing his eyes. "Hm. Poland told me it took him a long time to recover, as well. 3 years, it was?" He'd said this more to himself than Hanover, but the younger country nearly flinched as he heard this, and France felt sorry for him. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I cannot just allow him to leave –there would be a severe punishment from my leader if I did. But…" Then he looked up, confused for a moment. "Since when do you care, anyway?" he asked suddenly.  
Hanover looked startled for just a split-second. "Since he's been my roommate for nearly a year," he answered with a huff. "Courtesy of you. Also, he _is_ my brother, after all. That, and Hesse, ever the big brother, has been on my back about it nearly every day. I think he's found someone to replace Holy Rome when it comes to caring for others."  
France smiled at this, amused. Hesse wasn't generally a very kind person, though he wasn't too bad either. But when something happened to the youngsters in his family (and compared to him, that was practically everyone) he was the first to step in and care for them. Especially Holy Rome, indeed, he had protected with his life. Still it had not been enough…  
He sighed. "Very well," he gave in. "I'll check on him today to see how he's doing. If it's as bad as you make it sound, I'll consider sending him back to Königsberg."  
Hanover's face lit up with hope, and he nodded, thanking France and leaving then.

* * *

Prussia coughed, annoyed with his sore throat. He lay trembling with cold as Hesse dabbed at his forehead with a damp cloth. But he sat up, wide-awake, when Hanover came dashing in with a wide grin.  
"He said he's willing to consider it!" his brother announced happily. "He'll come to check on you sometime today to see if you're really in such a bad state."  
Immediately Hesse stopped trying to cool Prussia down. With a pat on his shoulder and a smirk, he said: "Sorry, little one, we need you to be at your sickest today. No cooling for you."  
Prussia laughed for a moment, breaking off in a coughing fit, but still laughing in between. "Right, right," he rasped, more hopeful that he could actually go through with their plans now than he had been all year. "I get it; the more pathetic I look, the better, right? How awesome…"  
Hanover nodded excitedly, grabbing the now barely-used bowl Prussia still had hidden and pushed that into Prussia's arms. "Now I know I've been complaining about it every single time," he said, his green eyes shining for the first time all year, "but if you could throw in some puking today, that would be, like… perfect."  
Prussia just grimaced and silently set the bowl aside again, shaking his head. "Not if I can help it, thank you," he muttered then, shuddering at the idea. He'd had quite enough of that over the months.  
"You don't _have to_ throw in some blood," Hanover went on as if he hadn't even listened, "but if you could… well, you know."  
This was the point where it started to become hilarious. And pathetic. "I get that there are people who can vomit on command," Prussia said with an even worse grimace now, not sure if he still wanted to be Hanover's brother just now, "but people who can _cough up blood_ on command? Do you even hear yourself?" Hesse nodded and agreed with Prussia, and Hanover looked away awkwardly.  
"I'm just saying…" he mumbled with a grunt.  
"Yeah, how about you stop saying things?" Prussia then said with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Right now would be a good time; you're making my head hurt."  
He shouldn't have said that, because Hesse and Hanover exchanged a quick glance and then started talking to each other none too quietly. Prussia grunted and turned around, burying his face in his pillow and trying to block out their voices. But he had to admit, it was working splendidly.  
Unfortunately for him.

It took France just over an hour to come around, taking some bread with him for Prussia, claiming he'd heard Bavaria mutter about the Prussian once again not having been there for breakfast. He then sent Hesse and Hanover away, and the two left without any protesting.  
"You do look pretty bad," the Frenchman concluded after inspecting Prussia for a moment as the kingdom carefully ate a bit of the bread. It didn't go down too well so far. "So you really think you'll recover more quickly in your own land?"  
"I know I will," Prussia rasped in response, not looking at France as he spoke. "You know it, too; it's how our bodies work."  
France was quiet for a moment and nodded. Then he looked at Prussia with a somewhat sad shimmer in his eyes. "Just so you know," he said softly, "I take no pleasure in seeing you like this."  
"Well, then you know what you've got to do."  
France looked like he wanted to speak again, but Prussia 'decided' it was time to do as Hanover had asked him now. France just grimaced. "Right, so I'll never allow that bowl back into the kitchens ever again," he stated with a shudder, looking away. "Dammit, Prussia, did you have to pick my best soup bowl?"  
Prussia spat into it, trying to get rid of that awful taste in his mouth, then shrugged. "How was I supposed to know it was your best bowl?" he muttered with an angry glance in France's direction. "It was the largest one, and at the time, size really did matter, you see…"  
"Spare me the details," the empire interrupted him, still grimacing. "Ugh. And besides, don't play stupid with me; you picked this one on purpose."  
"Totally did."  
France got up then, shaking his head and turning his back to Prussia. "Well… all right. But you can expect some other measures now that you're going back to Königsberg; I'm not stupid, you know. The people may say that Love is blind," he added with a smirk as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes glinting as he looked at Prussia, "but _I'm_ not. And I'm not deaf, either… _general._ " Then he left, leaving Prussia both happy that the plan worked out, and disappointed that they couldn't go through with it after all. How much did France know?  
Hanover and Hesse came back in a minute after France left, and Hanover smirked. "That was some great acting, Prussia," he told his brother as he came to sit beside him.  
Prussia just met his gaze with an even, emotionless stare. "You're joking, right?"  
Hesse pushed Hanover aside before he could answer and dipped the cloth he'd used earlier in the water again to help Prussia cool down. "So how do you feel?"  
"Fever-wise?" the Prussian just huffed. "Like someone threw me in an icy tundra and set me on fire."  
"So which do you prefer?" Hanover asked with a mischievous grin. "The icy cold or the burning heat?"  
A sigh. "How about a happy middle?"

* * *

Weeks later he was back in Königsberg. Prussia had received news that both Hungary and Austria had managed to escape back to their own lands, too. There were plans for the Prussian army to help the Austrians as they prepared for their next war against France. But then the Frenchman went through with what he had told Prussia and took new measures to stop Prussia from putting up a resistance: the Prussians were compelled to sign a treaty at a convention in September 1808 which reduced the size of their army to 42,000 troops and prohibited them from raising a militia.  
After this, Prussia sent a letter of apology to Austria, hoping this one would not be intercepted by the French.  
Russia, despite Prussia's pleas for help, didn't do anything.  
All their plans were failing. Austria once again lost the war and the rest of the Germanic family was still held prisoner in Paris. Prussia was recovering from his losses, though, which came as a relief to him. He hated having been sick so much for over a year.

It wasn't until 1812 that the real action in Europe started again when the French Empire invaded Russia. Austria and Prussia were made to fight on France's side as his 'allies'.  
Russia used the scorched-earth tactic in this war, one that Prussia remembered well; they would burn land to make it harder for armies to march through it. There would be no food and next to no shelter in the area. The thing is, though…  
The Russians used it on their own land.  
Prussia shuddered at the idea how much pain it must be causing Russia to do this, but it worked wonderfully: the French army found it all very unsettling and incomprehensible that their enemies would so willingly sacrifice so much. And after half a year they won.  
This was the first major victory against the French Empire, and Prussia was convinced there would be more to come. Most of all he was determined to play a part in it.

The Prussian army was ahead of their king in this, signing a treaty with the Russians behind Frederick William III's back. After that, it didn't take too long for the King to follow their example. He wrote a call to arms to the people of Prussia on 17 March 1813, and one part of it really got to the albino kingdom:

" _Whatever sacrifices may be required of us as individuals, they will be outweighed by the sacred rights for which we make them, and for which we must fight to a victorious end unless we are willing to cease to be Prussians or Germans_ _."_

Those few sentences were what Prussia stood for, what his entire life had been: fighting for his rights and coming out victorious or not coming out at all.

" _This is the final, the decisive struggle; upon it depends our independence, our prosperity, our existence. There are no other alternatives but an honourable peace or a heroic end. You would willingly face even the latter for honour's sake, for without honour no Prussian or German could live. However, we may confidently await the outcome. God and our own firm purpose will bring victory to our cause and with it an assured and glorious peace and the return of happier times."_

When Prussia read this after his king had handed it to him for a quick proof-read (though really he would publish it with or without Prussia's consent), his heart pounded with pride. Frederick William III was a fine king, he simply reigned during a difficult time. Prussia may have doubted him before, but these words restored all his faith in his king. This was a true Prussian, and he had the Hohenzollern spirit.  
The kingdom bowed with the utmost respect, silent. He didn't speak until he stood straight again, looking the human in the eyes. "You'll have my full cooperation," he vowed. "Normally I would personally pull out of a war when the situation becomes too bad, for survival. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's what's required of a nation. But that's not what's required of _Prussians._ " He clenched his hands into fists, looking down for a moment, but he didn't hesitate for a heartbeat. "This time I'll fight to the death if need be. I am not the first so-called 'immortal' to bear the name Prussia; I may or may not be the last. Regardless, I will do anything to free my people and bring them to better days."  
Frederick William didn't seem too pleased with his kingdom's decision, but the look he gave Prussia said that he couldn't have expected anything else from him. With Prussia it was usually all or nothing in these situations, or as he said it, 'awesome or un-awesome'. Being Awesomeness incarnated, as he'd told the king once or twice, naturally he would strive for the former.  
"Russia's army has… mortally wounded the French, if you will," the king then said, staring at Prussia with a determined gaze. "It's up to us to deliver the final blow. We will not lose, Prussia, I swear to you. I will do anything in my power to be rid of Napoleon – _and keep you._ "

* * *

France won the first battles, which began with the Battle of Lützen on 2 May, but Prussia refused to give up hope. Russia had beaten the French army when they had tried to invade, and Russia was on the Coalition's side. With them, they might stand a chance this time.  
Months later, in August, the French Empire fought troops consisting of Austrians, Russians and Prussians in the Saxon city of Dresden. The Coalition, despite their overwhelmingly greater numbers, lost the battle with many more casualties than France had suffered. But on the same day as that battle had started, Prussia was fighting elsewhere, near Liegnitz in his own land. Together with Russian troops, the Prussian army won this battle. For Prussia it was a new and strange sensation to win a battle and lose one both on the same day; he felt the rush of victory, but at the same time he felt shaky with blood loss after the loss of all those people in Dresden.  
Also, though he was still angry with Saxony for siding with France, the Prussian felt bad for his older brother. Such a massive battle in his capital… Prussia knew very well what that must've felt like, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone.  
Well… maybe France.

Battles continued, and 2 months after the series of battles in August, on 16 October 1813, the Coalition found themselves in Leipzig, Saxony. The French were badly outnumbered. The Coalition had all nation personifications present, and so did their opponents.  
Prussia had taken it upon himself to address all his allies before the battle, hoping to give them hope for the coming struggle on the battlefield.  
"This is the chance we've been waiting for all these years," he spoke as all nations were gathered with him. Some humans were here too, but not nearly all commanders. He spoke in German, trusting that Sweden and Russia, knowing that Hungary understood him. "If we do this right, we'll be rid of Napoleon once and for all. His army can't take more losses –overpower them now and we're all free once more. But we need to be cautious," he added, narrowing his eyes, looking at his allies one by one. "In terms of nations, _we're_ the ones who are outnumbered. They've got France, Württemberg, Saxony, _two_ Italians and Poland." Then he chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, how stupid of me. I meant to say, they've got a battered, half-beaten Frenchie, a teenager, a man with heart issues after August no doubt, _two_ damned cowards and a semi-nation. This will be too easy." He felt proud when he saw Sweden and Hungary grin at this, looking ready to fight. His eyes gleaming, Prussia raised his sword in the air. "Let's make this the last of our battles in this endless war!"

Hours later, after being unable to sleep, Prussia and Russia had joined their forces near Leipzig and prepared to advance to Wachau. But once there, they found the French army had been there waiting for them. Russia's troops fought outside the town, and the Prussian army managed to get inside, fighting the French in the streets.  
Prussia's heart was racing as the gunshots seemed to blast his ears. He gripped his sword tightly in his left hand, fighting off as many enemies as he could. It was hard this time to get into his usual rush while fighting, for some reason. Maybe it was because he already felt that things weren't going according to plan. He also felt what was going on in the other places where his people were fighting, and his whole body felt tense and sore as he slashed, stabbed and dodged.  
A French soldier had engaged in a swordfight with Prussia, and the kingdom had to give it to him –this man was good. But not good enough. Prussia swiftly moved aside when the man tried to stab him, knocking his sword away with his own. As he was fighting, Prussia noticed this human's movements with a sword were like fencing, and he smirked. That meant this soldier must be an expert with swords, all right, but fencing wasn't about slashing your opponent open –it was about stabbing them. Which meant that Prussia probably had an advantage, knowing how to judge the man's next movements now.  
But his mind went blank for a split second when a bullet went right by his ear; he felt the rush of wind and heard the metal pierce the air beside him. It had only narrowly missed his head.  
This brief moment of distraction was enough for the human soldier, who then drove his sword into Prussia's stomach. The kingdom staggered and collapsed onto his knees, having trouble breathing for a moment. But the human, probably thinking this battle was won now, didn't try to finish him off. It took only seconds for Prussia to struggle to his feet again, blocking out the pain. He was in pain the entire time, after all. He could take this.  
Now that the French soldier saw that his normally fatal attack had next to no effect on the Prussian, he paled and stepped away. " _L'albinos!"_ he called to his comrades. " _Il est Prusse! C'est le Royaume de Prusse il-même!"_ Several French soldiers looked up at this, staring wide-eyed at Prussia, who felt choked with fear when he saw what lay in their eyes; it was fear nor awe, but pure hatred, and he knew they were already planning to do everything in their power to kill him. After all, with so many humans against one man, surely immortality would have no meaning anymore?  
This was definitely going to hurt.  
Before he could do anything, Prussia was shot in his right shoulder, and he stumbled backward, gritting his teeth. Then a second bullet hit him, just under the stab wound from earlier, and he fell onto his back, shaking in pain. Then the soldier from earlier walked up to him, talking to his fellow soldiers as he did so, telling them that it was useless; Prussia looked like he was in pain, but that was all. He wasn't dying. Then someone else called to him to at least immobilise the albino, and the Frenchman nodded, stabbing Prussia in his left knee and twisting his sword a bit to make the wound even worse. Prussia did his best not to scream and he just about managed, but he whimpered in pain at this. Then the enemy soldiers moved on, leaving the kingdom on the cold ground like that, healing achingly slowly.

Prussia was ashamed to admit that, the moment he could, he'd crawled away from there and went into an alley, waiting there until his knee had healed enough that he could stand again. By then the battle was over and the moment he emerged from the alley again, French soldiers chased him out of the towns after his troops.  
He found Russia again, who had also suffered that day, and waited with him back at the camp. They both went into the infirmary the moment they could do so without condemning some of their wounded soldiers to death. Prussia's knee hadn't been fully healed yet when he'd been chased out of Wachau, and running hadn't done it any good. Russia had a deep cut in his shoulder that, though slowly healing, needed some disinfecting according to the medics.  
But the day wasn't bad enough yet.

A little while later, Austria came riding in on his horse, ahead of his troops, eyes wide with fear, carrying something on his horse with him. It took Prussia a few seconds to recognise that 'something' as Hungary.  
"She was shot!" Austria exclaimed, jumping down and picking Hungary up and holding her limp body in his arms. "It won't heal, it- it must've been a nation, but I don't know who, and-!"  
Prussia ran his way and quickly took Hungary from his arms. She grunted when he did that, and relief flooded his mind. She was alive. For a moment he locked gazes with his cousin, who was still rambling in his distress. "Calm down," the albino interrupted him sharply. "I'll… I'll take care of this, I swear, I won't let her die."  
"You?" Austria choked out, confused, as he ran after Prussia when the younger kingdom headed to the infirmary with Hungary in his arms. "What the Hell, Prussia, she needs a _medic_!"  
"I know. Trust me."  
There was no space anymore in the infirmary tents, so Austria cleared a table, sweeping everything off it in a matter of heartbeats, and Prussia laid Hungary down on it. Without thinking he took off her coat, seeing a large bloodstain in her side. His stomach twisted as he recognised the wound as being similar to the one that had killed Brandenburg. _I won't be helpless this time,_ he told himself as he next tore Hungary's shirt to get to the wound. _I know things now that I didn't do then, I've got skills that I didn't have then. It will be different this time._ But blood was pulsing from the wound.  
Choked up, Prussia turned to Austria. "Get alcohol, a needle and stitching thread," he ordered him immediately. "When you've brought me that, get bandages as well, or anything you can find to bind the wound."  
Austria shook his head, looking over Prussia's shoulder; Russia had heard what was going on and had already gotten the supplies. Prussia took them from him without a word, and as he tore a piece from the Hungarian's shirt to drench in alcohol, he asked for water instead. She needed to drink something. Then he quickly dabbed at the wound, cleaning it before he would start stitching. This time, though it must hurt more than carrying her had done, Hungary didn't make a sound. "Come on, Lizzie," he whispered to her as he grabbed his needle in a hurry. "Stay with us."  
Austria came back with the water just as the kingdom started stitching the gunshot wound. He stood staring for a moment, not really believing his eyes, then set the water beside Hungary on the table. Prussia's hands were trembling by the time he was finished, and he cut the thread with his sword when he realised Austria and Russia had forgotten to bring a pair of scissors. Austria then handed him the bandages that he'd found –it wasn't much, but they should be just long enough to go around her stomach. As he was finishing that up too, Prussia spoke softly to his cousin. "She might still lose a few drops of blood," he whispered, hoarse with shock now that his momentary adrenaline rush faded and fear set in. "But she shouldn't bleed so much that she can die anymore now. She'll be fine –I was… maybe a little too generous with the alcohol."  
Austria nodded and thanked him softly. "Where did you learn to do that?" he asked after a little while, staring at Prussia with wide blue eyes.  
"Books and fieldwork… Silesian Wars," was Prussia's soft, tired answer. Now that the adrenaline had really left his body, he felt so tired that he could barely stand. He watched in silence as Austria went to stand beside Hungary, carefully running his fingers through her brown hair and whispering to her in Hungarian. The Prussian turned away when Austria leant down to carefully kiss her, but he heard him talk to her still. He couldn't watch this, not so much because it was Hungary, but more…  
 _Brandenburg… I wish I could've done the same for you. That day would've ended like this for us, too; I would've waited by your side until you woke up._  
He was about to walk away, when Austria suddenly grabbed him by the arm. Prussia froze and turned to look at him. The Austrian was shaking, but his eyes were shining with gratitude. "Thank you so much, Prussia," he said again. "Really. I never thought I'd say this, but… you saved her life. I couldn't thank you enough."  
"Wait with thanking me until she wakes up and walks around again," Prussia answered hoarsely. He didn't want to stand around and talk any longer, but Austria wouldn't let go. Maybe it was good that he didn't give Prussia a chance to walk away now. "I'm awesome, but even Awesomeness can be wrong sometimes. I've been proven wrong about these things before." He glanced at Hungary but looked away again immediately, closing his eyes, adding in a whisper: "I told Brand that she was going to be fine…"  
Austria stood quiet and motionless for a moment after that, but then he sighed. "Prussia," he began tentatively, "that wasn't your fault. Even if you had the knowledge and skill to save her, you lacked the supplies, you lacked the time. You couldn't have done anything, I'm sure." He took a deep, shaky breath then. "I'm just glad that you could do this for Hungary. More than words could ever describe."  
"…Me too." The kingdom stood there for a moment, as if time stood still only for him for a little while, but then he looked at Austria again. "Just call me if she needs my help again. I… I was stabbed in my knee today, and it really needs a break again if I want to be able to fight well tomorrow." That, and there was still a battle going on for the Prussian army; he could feel the pulsing pain in his stomach.  
But before he could leave, Austria said one more thing to him: "I still don't particularly like you, and I'm sure it's not one-sided… but sometimes you really are as awesome as you always claim to be, Prussia."

* * *

The next day, Prussia didn't fight; he'd barely slept, worrying about Hungary, and though his knee was healed, it was stiff due to the way he'd been walking on it the day before. There wasn't much fighting anyway, so he didn't feel too bad about it, and it gave him the time he needed to look after Hungary. She lay in her and Austria's tent now, and Prussia went there as much as he could. She was doing a lot better already, and her wound hadn't gotten infected overnight.  
Prussia spent the day working on tactics, looking after Hungary and trying to reassure his soldiers that they would win in the end. But after his own personal humiliation of the day before, he didn't feel so hopeful himself.  
When he got the chance, he went off, staying close to his troops but at a distance that he could be alone for a little while. He sat down, wishing for a moment that he had his flute with him, but he'd left it in Königsberg. He'd been feeling uneasy all this time, and it was only getting worse. What if they couldn't do it? What if they couldn't beat Napoleon after all, what if he worked some miracle again and beat them all? Prussia wasn't sure if he could take that, if not physically then mentally. He pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them, hugging is legs to his chest. "Brand… _I'm scared._ "  
"Well, that's new," a voice answered, and his heart skipped a beat and his blood seemed to freeze in his veins. "When have you ever been scared of wars?" But then the cold faded, evaporated in the heat that followed when he looked over his shoulder and saw her actually standing there. Brandenburg. She smiled at him, and shushed him when he tried to speak but couldn't. "Careful now," she giggled, "if you stutter too much, you might come across as less awesome!"  
"How are you here?" he managed to choke out, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms. But like in his dream all those years ago, something stopped him and told him he couldn't. _Different worlds._  
She sat down beside him, still grinning a little. "I was allowed to visit you again," she answered. "They decided you needed it. Took their time, really." She laughed then, and to Prussia it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "But seriously, just when I'm allowed to come talk to you, you _don't sleep!_ "  
"So… what?" Prussia then asked, also chuckling. "I'm not dreaming now, but daydreaming?"  
"Clearly." Brandenburg sighed then, her gaze soft as she looked at him. "Holy Rome is so proud of what you have done for your family. I'm… we're all sorry that you had to reach your darkest, lowest point to do it, but you really changed something in them when you… broke like that in front of them."  
Prussia stayed quiet after this, a lump growing in his throat. His brother was watching…  
"Fritz is worried that you're fighting too hard," Brandenburg went on. "I agree. Look after yourself, my dear. I love you, but I don't want you to join us anytime soon, you hear me? You have so much left to do, so much to experience and so much to achieve, I'm sure of it."  
"But I miss you," Prussia answered, sounding as choked up as he felt, his voice weak. "I miss all of you. The world is not nearly as awesome without you… why do I have to stay here?" His eyes were burning and pricking with tears, and he gritted his teeth, biting them back desperately.  
Brandenburg wouldn't allow him to do that, though. "Go on… cry. It's only me here. It's okay."  
Prussia took a deep breath and nodded, from there on letting his tears fall freely, but he stayed quiet except for talking softly. "I'm done with crying over you all," he said softly. "I've done so enough by now. But then… why does it keep on happening?"  
"Because you're not done yet," Brandenburg answered calmly. "You're lonely even with everyone who now show more interest in you around you. Which is understandable –you have people with you, all right, but you still miss the connection you had with us. Is that right?" Prussia only nodded, and she sighed. "I can tell you again that you're never alone. You realised that in the Seven Years' War, when you were so sick. Do you remember that?"  
Prussia blinked at her, confused, wiping the last of his tears away with his sleeves. "Not much, no."  
Brandenburg chuckled, warmth glowing in her blue eyes. "Well, you were pretty out of it, after all. You… talked to us. You actually freaked Fritz out –of course he confronted us about it when he died. It took some explaining that we were only watching over you then and you're feverish delirium just somehow allowed you to see us. But… we're _always_ with you, always." Her warm smile turned into a smirk then, and she got to her feet. "Now get up and get going! You have a battle to win, you hear me? Stop sulking."  
Prussia smiled but sighed as he too got up. "But yesterday was so _humiliating._ I'm not sure if I can lead my men tomorrow, knowing that some of them have seen what happened in Wachau."  
"Of course you can," Brandenburg said reassuringly. "They respect you just the same, even after that."  
"I'll trust you on that, then," Prussia replied with a smile, turning back to look at her. But she was gone. _No, she isn't. I just can't see her._ "Thanks for coming, Brand. You're right, I needed you."  
He dug into his pocket then, grabbing his pocket watch –he'd gotten it at the turn of the century, deciding that, though he had centuries of experience, this was still easier than judging the time from the position of the sun or moon. Time to check on Hungary again.

Hungary had just woken up an hour before Prussia came in, and her eyes were shining when she saw her friend. "Gil!" she choked out as she struggled a bit to sit up before being pushed back gently by Austria. "Roderich told me what you did yesterday. Thank you so much."  
Prussia smiled and sat down on the bed beside her. "You know I couldn't bear to lose you as well. And… neither could Austria." Hungary held out her hand to him, and he took it gladly, holding it gently. "You have people to stay alive for, Lizzie."  
Austria got up then, muttering to himself about a racket outside –and now that Prussia listened for a moment, he too heard that there was quite a commotion. But really, Prussia thought he just left because he hated seeing Hungary and Prussia like this. _Unfortunately for me, Sissy, she's yours. She loves you, not me, so get over it._ As far as Hungary was concerned, this was just an exchange between friends and… Prussia could live with that. He was okay with that now, he couldn't change it anyway.  
But suddenly there came a call from outside, and Prussia got up. "Hey, Prussia, come here for a moment, will you?" It was Austria who said this.  
But the moment he stepped outside, it was Württemberg who tackled him and held him in a tight hug. The Prussian stood stunned for a moment, but before he could ask what was going on, the teenager stepped back, still holding Prussia by the shoulders, and told him excitedly: "I defected! I swear, I'm on your side now! I know I can't fight," he added more softly, glancing down at his deformed leg for a second before looking up at Prussia again with shining eyes, "but the games you and I played when I was little really paid off –I'm good with strategies!"  
Meanwhile Austria picked the boy's cane up from the ground, which he had dropped when he'd hugged Prussia like that, and handed it back to him before turning to Prussia. His expression was grim, his eyes emotionless. "What do you think we should do about him?" he asked his younger cousin, not at all trying to hide his distrust from Württemberg.  
"I… I have soldiers with me, too," the younger kingdom then said softly, shrinking away from Austria. "I understand that you don't trust me yet, but… But I swear to you, I know when the fight is lost, and I want Napoleon out of the way, too! He let me become a kingdom, but that's all he's ever done for me."  
"Oh, so you're joining us because you know you can't win on France's side?" Austria then demanded, sounding even angrier now. "You damn coward."  
"Austria, stop it," Prussia then interrupted. "I raised the boy, I'll deal with him, got it? I can handle him myself, thank you very much." Before Austria could protest, he pulled Württemberg along with him, paying no mind to the boy's limp so the younger country had difficulty keeping up.  
He took him to his own tent, told him to wait in a corner then rummaged through a bag. He took out the rolled-up blanket he'd taken with him in case the temperatures dropped any further, spread that out on the floor beside his bed. "Home sweet home, kid," he said to Württemberg, walking back to him and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, but… Well let's just say I know what it's like to do things you regret, and it's nice to get a second chance. Or a third, or… a fourth. Fifth." He laughed for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure how many chances I've been given, but it's not my second anymore for sure!" Württemberg looked surprised and grateful at this, but said nothing, so Prussia finished before the silence got long enough to become awkward: "Just don't try to be all buddy-buddy with the others, all right? You know the Awesome Me, I can take anything, but they really like their grudges, don't they?"  
"Actually," Württemberg replied, almost tentatively but smirking as he did, "bearing grudges is more your thing. Austria is very forgiving. And before you say anything, _yes, especially_ with you."  
"Well, after I saved Hungary's life yesterday," Prussia put in, grinning proudly, "he'd better forgive all the awesome crap I might've done to him! I saved his girlfriend, for Heaven's sake!"  
" _His_ girlfriend?" the boy echoed, looking away casually. "I thought there was a threesome going on, but all right, if you say so…"  
For this, the Prussian gave him a soft slap on the back of his head, laughing and calling him a little bastard. The teenager laughed along with him. Then Prussia ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'm glad you've seen some sense, kid."

* * *

The next day, the battle was on again. Russia was with Prussia again, at Probstheida, south of Leipzig. Meanwhile Prussian troops were occupying Wachau, which had now been abandoned, and Austrian and Hungarian troops were fighting the French in Löβnig and Dolitz. Austria himself and Württemberg, both not able to fight very well (or at all in Württemberg's case), stayed behind to look after Hungary.  
As Prussia stood on the edge of what was soon to be a battlefield once more, only one thought lay in his mind: _it's all or nothing._ This was it.  
 _Time to claim victory._

 _ **The Black Eagle never loses.**_

Prussia hadn't been this focussed in battle for a long time. He felt like he used to back when he was fighting as a child; there was a red haze covering his sight, his blood was roaring in his ears and every slash he dealt with his sword sent another burst if adrenaline through his body. He _loved_ it.  
 _This is for my people!_  
He blocked out the noise of guns, screams, screeching horses. The only sound he heard was that of his blood pumping his heart, which was pounding in his chest, his own harsh breathing. His lungs were on fire with lack of oxygen, but knowing that a victory today would lead to freedom, he relished in the pain. It was all worth it.  
 _For Brandenburg, for Fritz!_  
The pain in his muscles only served to make him fight even harder. No enemy came past his defences, no man was fast enough to dodge his attacks. Now this was how he knew himself; a one-man army, the world's strongest soldier, the invincible kingdom deserving of the title of Legendary Black Eagle.  
 _ **For Holy Rome!**_  
Before he knew it the French started retreating. When he saw them leave, part of him wanted to go after them. But his body wouldn't cooperate anymore: his strength left him as quickly as the adrenaline did and his knees buckled. He sat there, catching his breath, his mind flooding with pride and relief. They'd won. Napoleon had been defeated today. Maybe this was the final blow needed to get rid of him, maybe not, but they'd _won_.  
"Sir!" a voice suddenly called out, and Prussia slowly turned to look over his shoulder. Two of his soldiers were running his way. They looked shaken but uninjured, except for a slight limp for the one and a shallow cut on the jawline for the other. They halted on either side of him and helped him back to his feet. "Sir, are you all right?"  
Prussia nodded, still gasping for breath. "Couldn't be better," rasped. His throat was like sand, so dry that it hurt. "Just a little dizzy, that's all. _Wow,_ that battle was… intense."  
The two soldiers looked at each other for a moment. Prussia realised only now that they were mere boys, about the same age as he looked himself –nearly adults, but not quite yet. Shame that the army required so many men that they had to resort to recruiting children, but then, he'd fought when he was barely any taller than a decent-sized sword himself. "It certainly was, sir," one of the two soldiers said. "You were like a… a hurricane out there! I've never seen anyone move so fast, so fierce…"  
"It was amazing!" the other boy added, his eyes shining. "How'd you do that?"  
Prussia stumbled then, and the two caught him again, supporting him from there on. The kingdom just laughed hoarsely. "By using up every scrap of energy I have, clearly… maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all."

Once back with the other nations, the Prussian found that more of Württemberg's troops had joined the Coalition that day, and Saxony had joined Prussian troops also and helped drive the French back.  
The French were starting to retreat.

The next day, on 19 October, the Coalition launched one last, massive attack on the French army as it was retreating west, cutting off every other direction for them.  
It was the decisive victory in the war against Napoleon.  
They were free.

* * *

 **So... a lot.**

 **This was so complicated to look up. I'm glad I found the document of King Frederick III's call to arms, though. Always nice when I can use real historical texts in my story (like Fritz's letter in an earlier chapter).** **I am beginning to seriously doubt I can finish this story before school starts again (2 weeks) and this is my final year. Hope To Die might not be updated as regularly, but then, it might be. We'll see.**

 **Only a couple chapters left. From here on it's the end of Napoleon, the Industrial Revolution in Prussia, the war between Prussia and Austria (yet another one), the Franco-Prussian war and finally the 'birth' of Germany. All but the latter will probably be one chapter each.**

 **So the end is near!**

 **Thanks all for reading again, and I hope you liked it!**


	53. Chapter 53

**Vaetta, MissiriKoharehn, Abc and pinkdoughnuts, thanks for the reviews!  
MissiriKoharehn, ****you're right. I'd personally imagined that the bullet had gone all the way through, but it's either that, or Prussia made a mistake. Whichever you like best ;)  
When a human shoots a nation, by the way, and the bullet doesn't go all the way through, it just dissolves after a little while if it's not taken out. I remember mentioning that all the way back in the early chapters of Rising... that seems so long ago now XD**

 **Anyway, here goes another chapter!**

* * *

Prussia dedicated the years after Napoleon's exile to the island of Elba to getting his life back on track. He missed Königsberg when he left there again, as always, but it felt good to be back in Berlin. He immediately went to Brandenburg's grave, which to his relief had been left untouched all those years.  
Much to his dismay, too. It took him all afternoon to get it cleaned up and looking tidy again. Then in the evening he went to Potsdam to see Fritz as well before heading back home. He stayed there for a year until he finally went through with the plans he'd had for decades now: he moved away to live on his own, close enough to his king so that he could go there on an almost daily basis to work, but somewhere with some private space, too. It wasn't exactly a small house, he liked his space, but it was clearly fit for one, maybe two people to live in.  
Well… by his standards anyway.

And things went well that way. It was all soon back to normal. The two times he'd seen Hungary and Austria since the end of the war against Napoleon, things between them went back to normal again, too; Prussia didn't quite remember what had triggered it, but he and Austria were fighting again, as they should be. The truce had lasted so long, it was getting disturbing. Hungary, as per usual, was on Austria's side most of the time. She had hit Prussia over the head more than once, but she was never really angry with him anymore. That was the only thing to have stayed as it had been over the past years, and that was the one thing he wanted to never change.  
The rest of his family was back where they started, too. They still didn't really get along. But, he'd found with a twinge of pride, they all saw now that they were stronger united. They were all Germans, they were all of the same blood. Maybe they were all very different, but they had to find a way to work together.  
Prussia had already decided that he would happily bring them together again like he had done before. This time without going suicidal, though. Maybe that was a better idea.

Fights within the family and among other members of the former Coalition rose to a maximum at the Congress of Vienna.  
The shortest way to tell the story was to say that all parties wanted something for themselves and disagreed with everyone else.  
It actually took months to get to a final accord. And during that time, Napoleon had returned from Elba and started fighting again. This time, with the Seventh Coalition formed, he was up against the most overwhelming majority yet, so Prussia didn't worry about it. In fact, he was more worried about this 'Congress' than about Napoleon. It took until 9 June 1815 (and they'd started in 1814) to get to a final Act.

"All right, so…" Austria began with a sigh, "let's just get this over with. Anyone want to start?"  
Russia got to his feet immediately, walking over to Poland, who looked miserable. " _Da_. I'll get the little Polish man, right? We've agreed on that now?" A war had nearly broken out over it a little while ago. Austria just nodded quickly and the other nations mumbled their agreement too.  
"Most of him, anyway," England then put in, flinching when Russia turned to look at him with his usual creepy smile. Was he trying to be intimidating, or did he seriously not know how scary he was? Prussia still hadn't figured it out. "Also, his name is the Duchy of Warsaw, you'll do good to remember that, Russia."  
"I'm _Poland_ ," Poland protested softly, looking down. But everyone ignored him.  
"And I also get to keep Finland?" Once again everyone agreed with Russia, though Sweden didn't look too happy about it.  
Next to say something was Southern Netherlands. The girl looked a little displeased beside her older brother. "Do I _have_ to go with big brother?" she asked, looking at Austria, who had previously controlled her land. "I like brother very much, but our people are so different, I don't think they'll like living together.  
Netherlands sighed beside her. "Don't complain, South," he scolded her. "We've been over this before; I don't like it either, but it is how it is. All right? We'll find a way." But Southern Netherlands huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, not looking at Netherlands anymore after that.  
Saxony was the next to get angry, glaring at Prussia with a murderous gleam in his brown eyes. "Are you willing to be a little more lenient now, _little brother?_ " He had it almost as bad as Prussia had it before the territories he'd lost to Napoleon had been restored to him. He looked feverish as he sat there, but still well enough to be rebellious, so that was good.  
Still, Prussia couldn't feel sorry for him. Saxony had been on their side all this time, but when Napoleon made him certain offers he went to France's side instead. 40% of his land was a tough loss, but one he deserved, the traitor. "Nah," the albino answered with a shrug and a grin. "Just give me all the land you have and I'm happy."  
"You're already getting a _lot_ , Prussia," Austria then put in, narrowing his blue eyes at his cousin. He was one of the people who thought Prussia was given too much land and power now. Prussia disagreed. "Do you want me to make a list? Saxony, Swedish Pomerania, the Duchy of Westphalia… do you need me to go on?"  
Prussia only laughed. "Yes, please! I'm having too much fun here." He stood up then, grinning as he made a couple of dramatized bows and laughing. "Thank you, all, thank you. I know, I'm too awesome for this world. It's good of you all to recognise my awesome power now, you took your time." Then he quieted down again, enjoying the annoyed, angry stares he got. He was _back_ , and climbing further to the top, and they just had to sit and watch him surpass them all. He would, no doubt about it. He just needed more time. Then he hummed, tapping his chin, deep in thought. "There's one thing I'm still missing, though," he mumbled to Austria, who grew more tense with every word his cousin spoke.  
" _What_ , Prussia?" the Austrian asked then, trying to sound calm.  
"Well… How about _all_ control over the German Confederation? You've proven time and time again that you don't know what you're doing in trying to keep the family together. _I_ , on the other hand…"  
"Not in a million years!" Austria interrupted him, jumping to his feet, his hands clenched into fists. "Prussia, you should be _grateful_ that you're getting any form of authority in the first place! And _don't make me laugh._ You, able to unite the family better than me? Nonsense! Or do you need me to tell everyone how you _united_ us against Napoleon?"  
Prussia gritted his teeth. "You wouldn't dare!"  
Austria shrugged, but Russia looked curious now. "No, please," he said with his trademark smile. "Tell us." When neither Prussia nor Austria spoke, he turned to Poland. "You were there in Paris, weren't you? Go on, tell us. I want to know."  
Poland looked up at Prussia for a moment, and the Prussian glared at him. _If you dare, Polly, I swear-!_ But knowing how much it would embarrass Prussia and piss him off, Poland's eyes only began to twinkle with satisfaction and he began: "Well, little mister _Awesome_ here got depressed, _begged_ me to kill him, bawled his eyes out and then everyone started showing some more interest in him out of _pity_." He smirked at Prussia then, who stood frozen, his face red with anger and embarrassment. "So much for bringing the family together, right, Prussia?"  
Austria already sighed and hid his face in one hand, sitting back down, clearly waiting for the situation to escalate. It did so a second later when Prussia made a dash for Poland, shoving everyone who tried to stop him aside with next to no effort, then tackled the older man. He dealt him a few swift punches and cursed at him in every language that he knew before being pulled away again. But he kept cursing for a moment longer –after all, he still had Latin, French and Hungarian to go.  
When Prussia settled down again and Poland got a handkerchief from Hungary for his bleeding nose, England sighed. "Well, it's always good to see youngsters with such… fire. But, Prussia, _for Heaven's sake,_ get a grip on yourself. Why you feel you must _always_ resort to violence is beyond me."  
"Maybe because no one ever listens to my awesome words," Prussia muttered, looking away angrily, "so I make them listen to my awesome _fists_ instead. Works wonders."  
"Oh, _boo-hoo_ ," South Italy then replied with a sigh, picking at his nails with a bored expression.  
Prussia just gritted his teeth angrily and turned to him instead. "Do you want to have a go, too?"  
"Prussia, _sit down!_ "  
"Wow, talk about a temper."  
"Who allowed him inside in the first place?"  
"Well, it was clear from the get-go that Prussia would throw a hissy fit again."  
"He's a genius on the battlefield, all right, but _so violent_ , it's not even funny anymore."  
"Just another one of those stupid jerks trying to be better than everyone else."  
"Can't take any criticism, can he?"  
Everyone was trying to be quiet about it, but Prussia heard them as they whispered these things about him, and it took him only a minute to get up and walk out of the congress hall, looking at nobody as he went. But when he passed Poland, he grabbed the man's head from behind and smashed it against the desk he sat at with Russia and Finland, satisfied to hear him grunt in pain. And as he walked by Austria, he casually snatched his glasses from his sissy face and flung it at the nearest wall, smashing it to pieces. He closed the doors behind him with a loud bang.

Now why had he said all those things? He'd known something like this would happen. Sometimes he really got the feeling he didn't even control his own tongue.  
"Well, I got what I came for," he scoffed, kicking the wall angrily, ignoring the pulsing pain it left in his foot. Then he grinned to himself. "I'm one of the strongest nations in Europe now. You see that, Holy Rome? I told you I'd become great one day. Oh, and I will do something for our family too. All in due time."  
Then he sighed and sat down somewhere, staring at the ceiling and lost in thought. He'd been trying very hard to be liked more by others over the past years, but he'd ruined it with Austria once again, Saxony hated him no doubt, Russia… was Russia, the UK was starting to distrust him, France wouldn't talk to him (and he wouldn't talk to France), he hadn't seen Spain in years. Well, at least Württemberg, Hesse and Hanover liked him a bit more lately. Bavaria had once come to him to tell him that, though he tried, there was something he just didn't like about Prussia so the older kingdom shouldn't expect any friendship between them _ever._ Prussia had just nodded and said that he hadn't expected any better, and decided to still not tell the boy _why_ he so disliked Prussia for no apparent reason at all. The albino had a pretty good guess. _After all, I've always despised Lithuania, haven't I?_  
"Oh yeah, I've really risen to the top now," he mumbled to himself to get his mind off all that. "Life's good. Life's awesome." Then he sat up, an idea suddenly popping into his mind. If he told himself that, if he told himself that he _loved_ his life, surely there would be a time when he'd start believing his own lie? It was worth the try. He sat back and closed his eyes, humming softly. "People don't like me," he told himself in a whisper. "I don't like people. Fair deal, isn't it? Win-win for everyone. Netherlands would be proud."  
This had to work, it just had to. He hated being who he was; the lonely guy who tried so hard but was disliked by everyone. And he screwed up all the time. He just couldn't do anything right when it came to people, even though he loved being around others and getting some positive attention. So why not become the guy who revelled in the loneliness, who didn't need anyone else because he was awesome enough on his own already?  
It must be possible, right?  
And while he did that, he would also find a way to become even more awesome on a national scale too. After all, the world could never have enough awesomeness. They _needed_ him to liven up the party.  
He laughed then, forgetting all his earlier frustration. "All right, Operation Awesome starts today!"

* * *

A week later Prussia was in Southern Netherlands, at Waterloo, where his army was about to face off with Napoleon's troops once again and hopefully one last time. But right now, on the evening of 16 June, he just returned to his headquarters after losing a battle at Ligny, south of Waterloo.

 _16 June 1815_

 _Thousands of deserters. Thousands. The damn cowards! If they had stayed, we would've won, I'm sure of it. I mean, we haven't lost too many more men than Napoleon has.  
And General Blücher has been badly injured. He's an old man, only a bit younger than Fritz was when he died, and his horse fell on top of him.  
Right, so he's out.  
Don't get me wrong, I feel bad for the man. I've had a horse fall on me once or twice, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially a human and one with such old, fragile bones…  
I should get some sleep… tomorrow we shall head toward Waterloo._

Prussia's retreat went very well, but of course, they were being chased by the French. The Prussians went into the Wood of Paris and managed to take possession of it. Prussia didn't sleep all night, and only reached Waterloo by the evening of 18 June.  
By the time Prussia arrived there with the IV Corps, British commander Wellington was discussing with England and Scotland. Prussia and the leader of this particular corps, Bülow, were the two only ones to approach him now, and the kingdom was just in time to hear Wellington say: "Night or the Prussians must come."  
At this, Prussia chuckled softly, then threw his arms up. "In that case, rejoice! We're here!"  
England and Scotland had already seen him and Bülow arrive, but Wellington only turned around now. He looked surprised for a moment, pleasantly so, but then he went into business-mode again and started discussing the battle so far with Bülow. Meanwhile Scotland laughed softly as he saw Prussia swaying a little. "When's the last time you've slept, Prussia? You look dead on your feet."  
"Depends," the Prussian answered with a yawn. "What time is it?" Then he just sighed and shook his head, not waiting for an answer. "Almost two days ago, anyway. But I suppose I can't nod off yet, can I? First we have a Frenchie to defeat."  
England didn't look so amused. He just scowled, muttering: "Well, you're certainly doing us a favour! At this rate you should've just stayed away, Prussia. You're of no use to us if you can barely stand up straight."  
Prussia was about to reply, but Scotland was quicker. The tall nation turned to his younger brother and just shrugged. "Don't be so hard on him, he lost a battle just two days ago and we know that the French have been after the Prussians all day yesterday. Besides," he then added with a grin, "the lad can always _not_ participate in the first attack his corps makes, take a much-needed nap, then be… what do you call it all the time?"  
"Awesome."  
"And be awesome on the next attack."  
England seemed to accept this idea and nodded silently, but Prussia shook his head fiercely. "What-? _No!_ I came here to help, so I'll help! And besides, it wouldn't be the first time that I've fought like this." He huffed then, straightening his back and raising his chin, trying to look more awake and alert, but he could tell from England's mocking gaze that he only looked pathetic.  
"Did you win?"  
"…Unimportant."  
Then Wellington and Bülow returned, and the Prussian commander immediately turned to his kingdom. "Our corps shall advance on the town of Plancenoit," he explained, and Prussia nodded, eager to get moving. "You should rest for now, however. You've been on guard all of last night. It's not worth letting you be taken prisoner or worse."  
England and Scotland snickered softly, smirking at the younger kingdom, who just sighed and rolled his eyes before leaving again to a place where he could safely get some rest. He couldn't deny that he fell asleep just as soon as his head hit his makeshift pillow, though.

Later that night, after Prussia had slept only a short while, he found himself in Plancenoit anyway. The first Prussian attempt to take the town had failed, but this time they were attacking with more forces.  
Guns were being handed out to a number of the Prussian soldiers before they would storm the town, and Prussia was watching it all calmly. But he lost his calm for a moment when someone handed him a gun as well. "I only fight with a sword," he replied hesitantly, taking a step back.  
The soldier looked surprised at this and narrowed his eyes. "But sir," he then said, sounding confused, "swords are terribly old-fashioned. The French have firearms –you could never get close enough to them if you fought them with a sword."  
"They don't _all_ have guns," Prussia protested simply and turned around, walking away from the man without another word. He would not use a weapon like that, not ever. He'd never liked the noise they made, and it was what had killed Brandenburg. No way.  
Before he and his men were to try and take over Plancenoit, Prussia addressed them all. "We cannot afford any mistakes tonight, men," he told them from where he stood on an old, broken wall, overlooking the army. "This is a battle that will be remembered for centuries, and we're to be part of it. I know that some of you will not come out of the town alive, but you should all know that each and every one of you, whether you survive or not, will be remembered for years and years to come for your bravery and your dedication to your country. You are true Prussians." He fell silent for just a moment and took a deep breath. "It is the knowledge that _you_ are Prussians, which makes me proud to be Prussia. It is an honour to have people like all of you." His gaze hardening, he drew his sword and lifted it in the air, raising his voice as he finished: "Now let's go to Plancenoit and make it ours!"

Hours later, Prussia was inside the town, helping some men get away from the church in Plancenoit, which was completely ablaze. The fire seared his skin without touching him, and the heat and smoke made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open all the time, and his sight was blurry with tears, hopelessly trying to protect his eyes from the smoke. He didn't even know if the men he was helping were French or Prussian, and he didn't care. He would get them out of here and then fight again, and if he somehow ended up killing the men he was helping right now, then so be it. This was war, he couldn't afford to be bothered by all that, not now. That would come later, if at all.  
But someone attacked him from behind then. He could just about hear him coming over the sound of gunshots and the roaring of the fire, just as the soldier took his last step before moving to stab the kingdom, and Prussia spun away to avoid his sword. He wasn't fast enough, and it caught him in the side, leaving a deep gash. The Prussian gritted his teeth, but didn't make a sound, trying to ignore the pain as he stepped from side to side, quickly dodging the other soldier's sword until he saw an opening to attack. Eventually he knocked his sword away as the man thrust it at him again, jumping and crashing into his side. Prussia himself landed on his feet, but his left leg buckled under him as the gash in his side seemed to tear open further with the hard impact. The French soldier was thrown against the burning church's wall, his head hitting the stone hard, and he lay on the ground like a doll. Prussia watched for a moment longer, when bricks from higher up the tower came crashing down. He turned away quickly then, but from the sound the stones made as they hit the ground, he could tell that the ground wasn't the only thing they'd hit. _What a horrible way to go…_

The gash in Prussia's side had healed a little by the time he reached the heart of the battle again, but though it still hurt badly, he fought as hard as ever. After all, this was the final offensive against Napoleon, he just knew it was, he felt it. He had to give it his all, until he couldn't fight any more or until he'd chased every last Frenchman from Plancenoit. He wished he knew what was going with the other troops fighting around Waterloo. Were they winning? He prayed they were. Over here everything was going relatively well, from all he could see, though it was messy. Corpses were strewn about everywhere he looked.  
But there was something else wherever he looked, too: muskets. Guns were so much more popular with the military than they used to be, and he hated it.  
He hadn't anticipated just how much he could and _would_ hate guns by the end of that day.  
Because a little while later, he heard an ear-splitting bang not too far from him, then felt hot metal pierce his chest. But the warm bullet filled him with a cold rather than heat, and his vision went black.

* * *

"Prussia?"  
The albino kingdom hummed softly, frowning. Who was talking to him? He recognised the voice, but couldn't place a name and face to it. He opened his eyes, blinking groggily, only to see Netherlands standing over him, looking slightly worried.  
A tiny smile spread on his younger cousin's lips when he saw Prussia awake. "Good, you're back. Do you remember anything about the battle?"  
Prussia tried to sit up, but it sent pain through his chest and abdomen, and he lay back down again. Thinking hard, he got only a few things from the battle of… how long ago? "Fire," he rasped. "Guns… everywhere. Damn, the noise…"  
"What are you talking about?" another voice then asked in English, and Prussia craned his neck to see England standing a little way off. Immediately he sat up; he could take it to look weaker than normally in front of his family, but never in front of others.  
Netherlands sighed. "Be patient, Arthur. I'd wager his mind isn't set to English quite yet, so let me just use German first and I'll translate-"  
"No, English is fine," Prussia then interrupted, getting to his feet. That hurt even more, but he just clenched his jaws and put up with it. "So, what have I missed? And why exactly did I miss it in the first place?"  
"You were shot in the heart," England answered bluntly, looking at Prussia with a blank gaze. "And when I say heart, I mean it. Also, do you even feel pain in the first place? There was so much blood on your clothes…"  
Prussia grinned at him, looking rather cocky for a moment. "Who cares about pain when there's a battle to be fought? What, you can't block it out and keep going?"  
The Englishman scoffed. "Sure I can, but not _that_ much; I'm not _suicidal._ "  
Prussia tried to ignore this careful reference to what Poland had revealed about him at the Congress of Vienna. Was it even a reference to that, or was it just poorly chosen words? _Shut your yap, Tea-Sucker._  
"As for what you've missed," Netherlands then said, clearly sensing very well that his two allies could start fighting any moment if he didn't distract them. "We've won the battle, Napoleon has been taken captive. Your army did an amazing job in Plancenoit, amongst other places. England doesn't like to admit it, but we wouldn't have made it without your army."  
"Don't give the man too much credit, Netherlands," England huffed, turning around and walking away, leaving the two cousins alone. Netherlands and Prussia looked at each other for a moment, and though Prussia could see that the younger kingdom was trying to warn him silently, he didn't pay any attention to it.  
Instead he huffed and walked after England with quick paces. He caught up to him in mere seconds, grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face Prussia. "What's your sudden problem with me?" he demanded angrily, glaring at him.  
England didn't seem fazed by it, and simply retorted: "What is _your_ problem with the _world_? You're unbelievably arrogant, thinking you're so great, you're violent and cruel and _why_ do you love taunting others so much?"  
"I would tell you," Prussia answered with a shrug, not wanting to look at him anymore, "but you're not worth the time and effort. The Awesome Me's got better things to worry about than just another person who will never understand."  
England was silent for a moment as Prussia turned and walked back to Netherlands, but then he called after him: "So you actually have a reason for all this? Tell me. No, seriously, tell me!" When Prussia didn't reply, didn't even look back, it only seemed to anger the Englishman further, and Prussia just caught a mutter from him before he got out of earshot: "Something's seriously wrong with that man…"

When he got back to Netherlands, Scotland was also there, talking to the younger kingdom. After just a few words, Prussia immediately caught that it was about trading. _It's Neddie, when_ _ **isn't**_ _it about trading?_ But what Scotland said intrigued him. "Really, the economy has gotten a huge boost because of it," the Scot told Netherlands. "You should try it out yourself. Of course, we're still busy developing more efficient machines, they're quite costly as of yet, but compared to the production rate we had before all this, it's certainly worth it."  
 _Machines?_ This made Prussia curious, and he sat down on the edge of a table and listened. Of course he'd heard about the developments in Great Britain, with machinery powered by water and steam. They were exporting many more products than they used to. And he'd also heard something quite amazing just a short while ago…  
Netherlands was thinking of that too, it seemed. "And the locomotives?" he asked, sounding excited but clearly trying to hide that fact. "Still going strong?"  
"Only being improved with each passing year," Scotland stated proudly. "There are plans to make it public in the near future, a great form of transport if you ask me."  
 _Steam engines, huh?_ Prussia smiled as he listened to this conversation. Now that would be his next conquest. What a way to become the best, strongest, most influential country on the mainland. Not many countries had followed Britain's example yet. His family most definitely hadn't. He would make sure he'd end up way ahead of them, and he would do it as soon as he possibly could.  
"Well," Netherlands then said, looking doubtful for a moment, "it does sound good, but you need coal for all that, don't you? I don't really have such great coalmines at my place, and importing them is expensive business. For now and until I'm back where I should be, economy-wise, I'll just stick to agriculture. _Manual_ labour."  
Prussia decided that this was a good time to speak up. "It all sounds good to me," he said, and the two other kingdoms immediately turned to look at him. "How does it work? How much does it cost to make an engine? Also, the locomotives sound _awesome._ How do you make those?"  
Scotland laughed nervously and looked away for a moment, overwhelmed by the questions. "Hey, laddie, I'm not… not an expert. I've been keeping track of the developments, but I'm no mechanic."  
Slightly disappointed, Prussia sighed. But then he got a new idea. "Can I just… go to your place and see it for myself, then? Maybe I'll pick a thing or two up, who knows."  
"Fine with me. But I think England may not like the idea so much…"  
"Screw England," the Prussian then said bluntly, getting to his feet again. "I don't need his permission to hop on a ship, do I? If we plan it well, he doesn't even need to know I'm there." Scotland still didn't seem convinced, so Prussia added: "I'll take beer with me. You know, the good one."  
Scotland chuckled at this, shaking his head slowly. "I do love German beer… All right, all right, we'll see about it, laddie. But not until _after_ the peace process that's to come now ends. Aye?" Prussia nodded and thanked him quickly. Then the Scot smirked and gave him a poke in the chest. "So how's the hole in your chest doing, eh? Hah… it was like a crater. Don't you just _love_ immortality?" The last part sounded sarcastic, but Prussia agreed anyway –not with the sarcasm, though.  
"I was out, so I didn't feel it anyway," he just said, shrugging. "Shame that I missed the moment of glory, though. Oh well, more to come in the future, I'm certain."

* * *

Weeks later Prussia was back home again, writing in his journal about the war and his plans for the future. He and Scotland hadn't made any definitive plans for Prussia's trip to the island yet, but Frederick William III had already given Prussia his consent to stay there for a couple of weeks at most, so long as he would come back with new knowledge to inspire his people to follow his example. Prussia hadn't thought that should be a condition; it was a given.  
A noise from the kitchen alerted him, and he dropped his work immediately. The potatoes were boiling over. With a grunt he got up and ran over to the pot, taking it off the fire quickly and burning his fingers in the process. "Ah, _shit,_ " he cursed under his breath when he saw that his potatoes were completely overcooked. Maybe he could still make a mash out of it, but it looked like crap. The carrots weren't much better off, and he'd managed to burn the sausage. _Again._  
He was awesome in many, many different ways, but 'awesome as a cook' wasn't one of them. That was the one thing he missed about living with his leader; the food there was _so good._  
"I wanted to live on my own," he told himself, shoving his ruined dinner onto a plate with a grimace. "I should either learn to cook or learn to deal with this. Simple enough." He hadn't been much better as a child, when he'd lived on his own, of course, but back then his standards hadn't been as high as they were now, after some centuries of living in… well, pretty much luxury, actually.  
Setting his dinner aside as of yet, he first finished writing.

 _3 August 1815_

 _Napoleon has been exiled again, and this time he won't be escaping. France has been restored to a monarchy, and we're currently busy making up yet another treaty.  
It took quite a while for that wound in my chest to fully heal. Sure, it had closed within a day, but it kept hurting for nearly a week. __I hate guns._ _  
But I suppose, with how much they're being used in modern warfare, I should get used to handling them again. In a few weeks, I'll start. But… not yet._

 _Maybe after I come back from Scotland, where I'll be learning about industry, machinery, stuff like that.  
I'll use that knowledge to improve on my situation here, and I'll surpass everyone in the family and show them that, unlike Austria, __I know what I'm doing_ _. It's about time that Prussia took over.  
Oh, it's not like I want to rule over all of them like a dictator, I know how that would end. But I want us to be united.  
We need to be united. We're family after all.  
We're Germany._

* * *

 **Prussia sure can be a jerk sometimes. Unintentionally, though he does love messing with people.  
Nah... not the best people person.  
** **And not the best cook either. I cannot imagine Prussia, of all characters, being a culinary genius. Or an average cook, for that matter.**

 **Oh, at this rate he's going to have so much fun in the two world wars, with all the _guns_ and worse. Hah. He'll love tanks, he seriously will *smirk***

 **Well, thanks for reading again, and I hope you liked it!**


	54. Chapter 54

**So, only a couple of chapters left to go (and a week until school... I'm so not going to finish this before then)**

 **MissiriKoharehn, pinkdoughnuts, vaetta, Abc, Polish reader, Krampus and awesome cookies, thanks all for the reviews! RebelWithoutaCause1998 and AwesomeBitsAndBobs, thanks for the follow and favourites!**

 **I hope you'll all like this chapter. I incorporated a bit of European history into it that I had completely forgotten about until it suddenly popped up in my mind again... and it did so just in time, too!**

* * *

 _17 March 1816_

 _Well, it sure took a while before I could go to Scotland, but I'm here now. He's very hospitable, which somehow doesn't surprise me. His people have been giving me weird looks, but then, that doesn't surprise me either.  
But whatever, honestly! I'm here to learn, and that's all I'll be focussing on. I don't need people to like me when I'm going to be around machines all the time, right? Well, and I will need some people to explain to me how all these things work, but I'll get them to do that much.  
Now let's start the industrialisation of Prussia. I'm ready for awesomeness!_

"Laddie, come on," Scotland sighed when he and Prussia walked out of the factory they'd visited and the Prussian seemed to be coughing his lungs out. Scotland himself didn't appear to have such an easy time breathing either. "You've been subjecting your lungs to the utter horror that is cigarettes for decades now-"  
"Which is your fault."  
"-I know. I just mean to say, aren't they used to breathing in complete junk yet?"  
Prussia shook his head, trying to take a few good gulps of air before he answered. "Well, cigars and cigarettes are completely different from… _this_." He looked over his shoulder at the factory and grimaced. "The air is _so humid_ , I feel like I just drowned –and trust me, I know first-hand how drowning feels, and this was pretty darn close. Not to mention the insane amount of dust and the heat and… How do those people live in there?"  
This made Scotland sigh, his blue eyes twinkling with shame and sadness. "Barely, to be honest with you. It's not safe in there –once again us nations are the ones to feel just how unhealthy it is to work in a factory such as this one, but what can we do about it? I've brought it up a couple of times, but the government won't do anything about. Say they've got bigger problems to worry about. I get how Napoleon's a bigger problem, but we're rid of him now." He scoffed, and Prussia decided not to press the matter further. They walked in silence for a little while, until Scotland asked: "So? Have you picked anything up?"  
"Yes," Prussia answered, chuckling softly. "That I'll need to improve many, many things before I'll even allow my people to mess with this! No way am I going to condemn them to death just to give the economy a boost."  
"That's what we all said, too," Scotland replied calmly, looking at the grey sky –it wasn't even raining or going to rain, this was all smoke and poison emitted from the factories. The Scot sighed, adding softly: "And look where we ended up… Economically it's worth it, totally. But I'm not sure…" Then he shook his head and said that Prussia should just go for it; it would no doubt help his economy rise to the top layer of European nations. "There's many things that steam power can be used for," the Scot then explained as they headed to the next place they'd visit –where the steam engines themselves were constructed. "Transportation, for example."  
"Absolutely," Prussia agreed, thinking of a man, Božek, from Silesia. He had built a steam-driven carriage in 1815. "I wonder how far they'll go with it…?"  
"Humans are inventive creatures, that's for sure," Scotland mumbled, half to himself.

Three hours later, Prussia was staring wide-eyed at a few blueprints of steam engines. Scotland laughed as he saw the look with which Prussia stared at the drawings. "Careful there, laddie," he warned. "You don't want to drool all over it, do you?"  
Prussia immediately took a step back, glaring at Scotland for that. The old kingdom only seemed to enjoy himself all the more. The Prussian then turned to the human who had handed him these blueprints. "These are really fascinating," he said politely. "Thank you for allowing me to see into your work." The man only replied that it was okay. Prussia had already turned back to inspect what was on paper, when suddenly he got an idea. "But… have you tried making these parts smaller?" he said, pointing out a few cogs. "The lighter the construction, the less energy it will take to operate it, right? And the less energy it uses up, the more economical it is… just an idea."  
The human frowned at this. "Well, I've tried something similar, but it's not easy to just alter the entire design –for that's what needs to happen if you alter just one part." Prussia nodded; he could understand that. "You've got the right idea, though. I just need to figure out how to do it. Maybe you could help me with that? I could use someone with insight like yours."  
Prussia's eyes began shining at this, and he eagerly said yes, turning back to the blueprints and thinking hard as he inspected every part of it.  
The human laughed softly and turned to Scotland. "You've brought along a bright kid, Allistair," he said to the nation. "Last I recall you couldn't even figure out the blueprints."  
Scotland grunted and looked away. "Don't remind me…" Then he looked back at Prussia, who was lost in thought, tilting his head to one side. "This comes as a surprise to me too, though. I knew he was smarter than he looks, but… Well, I guess I've been underestimating him all this time."  
"I think I've found something!" Prussia then said proudly, not having noticed the exchange between the two Scotsmen. The human immediately stood beside him, and Prussia began explaining his idea. The man replied that, though the idea was a good one, it wasn't practical. When Prussia asked for a detailed explanation why not, he got one, and he tried his best to take in every word.  
By the end of the day he was completely exhausted simply because of the overload of information he'd gotten. And this was only his second day in Scotland.

* * *

At the end of that week, after having spent more time learning with the man Scotland had brought him to, Prussia decided it was also a good idea getting some first-hand experience on how it is to work with these new steam-powered machines.  
It was _awful._  
After just three hours, he felt as tired as he would be after a whole day of training. There was just so much that he had to pay attention to: the speed with which the machine worked, the movements of the workers around him, the quality of the textile that was being produced at high speed. He also had to be careful not to get his hands chopped off, or have his clothes caught in the machine which could seriously injure a person as well, and it had taken a while before he'd found a good way to breathe in this humid poisonous dump.  
It was hard work, and he was dripping with sweat because of the heat. _At least I can have a bath at the end of this day,_ he told himself as he glanced around at the people who worked here day in, day out. They didn't have such luxuries, not like he did anyway, and he felt a pang of guilt as he realised this.  
 _There must be a way to improve this,_ he thought as he looked at the people working and the machines and felt his own sore body near the end of the day. _Surely if we make improvements to the machines, it will improve quality of life here as well?_  
The most horrifying thing to see was the little children working there. Some of them were no older than 5 years. He supposed there was nothing to be done about that, and honestly, he'd managed hard labour pretty well when he was a kid. He'd done dangerous, potentially deadly things when he was their age. It's what you get for growing up in an Order of Knights.

"So?" Scotland asked when Prussia came stumbling back into his home late that evening. The Scot was calmly reading a newspaper with a cigarette between his lips, and just his relaxed demeanour pissed Prussia off. _I've been working my but off today for the sake of knowledge,_ he wanted to say, _and you're just sitting here, jerk._ But then, Scotland had his own job to attend to, and Prussia knew he'd been busy all day, too. He'd taken a day off on the day that Prussia came and when he'd shown him around town, but he hadn't been able to afford another easy day.  
Prussia just sighed deeply and flopped down beside the old country. "It's horrible in there," he replied. "There _is_ a Hell on Earth, let's just keep it at that. Now give me that," he added with a grunt, snatching the Scot's cigarette from him and taking a few deep breaths from it himself. "Oh, I've missed this… Poison that _doesn't_ make me feel light-headed and queasy." Scotland just chuckled and shook his head, then knocked Prussia on the head firmly but carefully and took his cigarette back.  
"You've missed dinner, as you must've realised," he said to the albino then. "Of course, I left your share in the cupboard. It's cold now, though."  
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Prussia replied, getting back to his feet and heading to the kitchen. "I love food in every shape, form and temperature. I'm just grateful that you left some."  
"Sure I did. What kind of host would I be if I didn't, laddie?"  
 _An Austrian,_ Prussia almost replied, smirking at the memories of when he'd gone to Vienna and had to go without breakfast because he'd overslept. It was funny now. And still frustrating, too.  
"But have you learned something useful?" the Scot asked after a little while, when Prussia was still eating. Prussia just nodded and answered quickly that seeing how the machines work up close from different perspectives like this really did help a lot in understanding how to make improvements to them. Scotland just laughed. "You've come here to learn how they work in the first place, remember?" he reminded the younger kingdom as he laughed. "A week into this, and you're already thinking of how to do it even better!"  
Prussia only shrugged. "What can I say? I'm just awesome like that."

* * *

In the years after that, the industrialisation of Prussia only continued. It was Prussia himself, among a number of his people, who were considering working with trains to transport goods between the different parts of his territories. Some parts of his land were separated from the rest, and the Prussian land had grown a lot over the past century. It seemed like just the thing they needed.  
But then, they would have to build through other countries' territories as well, and each time the goods would pass a border more taxes would have to be paid over them. It was one of the many reasons that Prussia thought a total unification of the German countries couldn't come soon enough. Hell, he would want it even if he had to marry each and every one of them like he'd been forced to marry Brandenburg long ago already. Of course that wouldn't happen, but to him at least, that was a clear sign that he _needed_ a unified Germany to happen, the sooner the better. He remembered all too well the famous writer Goethe's words: _"Deutschland? Aber wo liegt das?"_ Germany? But where is that? It wasn't anywhere on the map, he'd said, and he was right. _I want to change that, I want to change that so badly…_  
But when the 40s came, especially the latter half of the decade, the German disunity was the least of his troubles.  
Because Europe was struck with a famine like few Prussia had seen so far. A potato blight rotted nearly all the potato crops throughout Europe. The two countries who were worst off, from what Prussia had heard, were Ireland and Scotland.  
But since the introduction of potatoes as a staple food by Fritz (he was sometimes called 'the Potato King' because of it) the people of Prussia had become quite dependent on this particular food source.

After a year had passed, Prussia could already feel the demographic changes this famine brought in his own body; his population had grown over the past year, he knew that. But it had grown less than it normally did. There had been more deaths and birth rates had dropped significantly. Württemberg didn't have it so easy, either, and Belgium's situation (Southern Netherlands's new name after the girl had claimed independence in 1830) was on par with Prussia's.  
Two years into the famine, the German Confederation had decided to come together in Berlin to discuss it, though no one was hopeful and foolish enough to think they could solve the problems.  
Prussia hated the stares he got from his siblings and cousins; he'd gotten quite thin after two years of this. He still ate on a nearly daily basis, though most of the time it wasn't even enough to serve as a single proper meal over an entire day. And then there were times that he would feel particularly sorry for one or two families in his neighbourhood, and he would bring them what little food he had.  
But that didn't mean he wanted these looks of pity.  
The first to be asked about just how dire the situation was, was Württemberg. "We have about half the usual harvest of potatoes," the younger nation explained to his family. "The amount of rye and wheat have also dropped. People have died from hunger, and there have been less births over the past years, too. The demographic changes –for me at least- haven't been too bad yet, but it certainly doesn't feel nice."  
The others nodded, mumbling among themselves that they were facing the same situation, though maybe not as bad as Württemberg had it. Then they turned to Prussia, almost reluctantly it seemed, and asked him the same question. Prussia sighed, breathing out a puff of smoke –he was smoking a lot more than usual lately. "We've got about half the usual amount of potatoes, rye and wheat, and the increase in my population has halved compared to the increase last year, too."  
"Half of potato, rye and wheat together, or…?" Bayern began, eyes flashing with worry for her cousin.  
"Each."  
The others exchanged a worried glance now, but said nothing. A heavy silence fell in the room, broken only when Hanover said guiltily: "I'm sorry… I don't really have food to spare myself. I wish I could help your people, I really do, but…"  
Prussia just shook his head. "That's okay, I get it." He was silent for a moment, only listening to the others as they talked and taking deep breaths from his cigarette. When he felt it was a good moment to bring it up, he stated: "I think this is just more proof that we need to learn to work together."  
The entire family fell silent at this, staring at him. Saxony sighed. "Prussia, is this really the best moment…?"  
"Of course it is," the Prussian insisted, looking at Saxony directly now. "If ever there was a time to work together outside of wars, it's during a famine like this one! If we all worked together and shared what resources we have, I'm sure we would be better off."  
" _You_ would be better off," Saxony retorted accusingly, narrowing his brown eyes at his brother. "Look, I get that you want to help your people, but this isn't the way to go about it. If you get what you want and we all share our food resources, plenty of us will end up with _less_ than we already have."  
"And plenty more would have more than they do now," Prussia protested, though he knew that wasn't entirely true. Not everyone in the family had it as bad as he did. He could tell from their eyes that many others agreed with Saxony, and he sighed. But he wouldn't give up. "Even if we didn't share our resources," he tried to explain, "if only the taxes for transporting good across borders were lowered or gone altogether, it would be easier to get food and other goods from one part of one's land to another. It would be easier to divide what we have amongst our own people."  
"Again, this mostly applies to _you_ ," Saxony told him calmly, not even looking at Prussia anymore. Again, some others nodded and mumbled their agreement with the Saxon.  
Prussia just scoffed now and gave up. They wouldn't listen to him now, anyway. "Whatever…" Angry, he grabbed another cigarette from his pocket and lit that, almost immediately being told off by his family for it.  
"Can you _please_ stop smoking already?" Bayern grunted, grimacing as Prussia blew smoke in her direction. "This is… what? Your third cigarette already? It _reeks_. Just stop."  
"No."  
"Prussia, she's right," Austria then sighed, frowning. "You're not the only smoker in this family, I know that for a fact. But _they_ are at least considerate enough not to do so _all the time_ when we're talking about a serious matter –something you especially should perceive as such." When the Prussian still shook his head, Austria only seemed to get angry. "Why is it so hard to be polite for once, you-?!"  
"Because it helps me ignore the fact that I'm hungry!" Prussia retorted, getting even angrier himself now, too. Immediately it became so quiet in the room that Prussia could hear himself breathe, and he looked away again, embarrassed that he'd admitted this now. If he didn't want any pity, this wasn't the way to go about it.  
Brunswick sighed softly and nodded after a little while. "It's true," she said carefully in Prussia's defence. "Smoking suppresses hunger. It may not be healthy for humans, but it holds no consequences for us, so why not just let him?"  
"Actually," Hesse put in, "have you considered that he –a nation- is breathing poison right into our faces? It is no problem for us if we smoke ourselves, but it might not be the same if other nations basically force us to breathe this in." Once again, the majority of the family saw sense in this observation, and nodded all too gladly.  
Prussia met their gazes, then sighed and put out his cigarette with an angry huff, not saying a word to them. Bayern seemed to feel guilty now as she looked at Prussia, and she offered carefully: "Hey, if you're really not feeling well… Err… I can give you something to eat once we're done. I mean, I don't have enough to help you on a national scale, but I've got plenty to help just you out for today, you know…"  
 _I don't even want people to help me, not like this._ She was doing this entirely out of pity, he could tell, and he really didn't want any of that. But at the mere thought of having a proper meal, the Prussian's stomach loudly answered for him, and he felt his blood rise to his face. Where normally some of his cousins would have laughed at this, everyone was now very quiet. Embarrassed, Prussia stared down at the table and mumbled a soft thanks.  
"The same goes for you of course, Württemberg."  
"Thank you, Bayern, that would be nice."

After the meeting, both Bayern and Bavaria gave some bread they had brought along for lunch to Württemberg and Prussia, and the latter thanked them both and put half of it in a small bag he had in his pocket –or intended to at least. Bavaria noticed before he could do so. "Prussia, don't even think about it," he said with a glare in the older kingdom's direction. Prussia froze, staring at him in surprise and asking what was wrong with keeping some to the side as of yet. "Because Bayern and I did not share our food with you just so that you can give it away to your people. You're going to sit down here, take it easy or whatever the hell you want to do, but I want to see you eat that, got it?"  
"You're already underweight," Bayern added, pushing the stunned Prussian back onto his chair with a stern gaze. "You need it, and don't you deny that. Facts are facts."  
Württemberg was holding back his laughter as he looked at Prussia, who still didn't seem to comprehend all this; after all, he was being told of by his _younger_ cousins as though they were… well, almost like they were his parents, really. "Don't worry, Prussia, I feel the same way as you do," he said then. "It just feels unfair to our people to have something to eat while they're starving," the teenager then explained to Bavaria and Bayern. "But… we both do need it. After all," he added, looking at Prussia again, "how do you plan on being awesome when you're half starved? We don't help our people by not taking care of ourselves."  
Prussia just sighed and decided to tell them the one thing that was bothering him most: "There's one family in the neighbourhood where I live," he began softly. "Their mother got sick because of the famine and didn't survive. Every day I have to see their father work hard while he has no energy himself anymore, the eldest son just got sick as well and… do you know how horrible it is to be able to count the ribs of a 4-year-old? More of them would've died by now if I didn't help them out every now and then. When Karla –that's the mother of the family- was sick, I actually went without food for three days straight to help them out, and it still wasn't enough."  
All three of the younger nations were silent for a moment, staring at him, and Prussia stared back until it became too awkward. Bavaria was the first to speak again. "You know," he said with a hint of laughter in his voice, "sometimes you're such a nice guy. Then sometimes you're the world's greatest jerk."  
At this, Prussia laughed too, and so did Bayern and Württemberg.

 _2 February 1847_

 _God, it feels good to go to bed with a full stomach for once. I wonder how much longer this famine can go on, but surely it cannot be much longer?  
Anyway, I've still been working on learning more about modern technology. The industrialisation is going pretty well, despite the famine.  
Dammit, I'm worried about Scotland and Ireland. They're doing so much worse than me, and I feel like shit already. I mean, Bayern was right, I'm quite thin now. If Ireland is like me and prefers to let his people eat first –and I'm certain he's like that, surely every nation is?- I can only imagine him being like a walking skeleton by now. The poor man…_

 _Well, enough about the famine. If this isn't enough to convince everyone that we need to unite, I'll find something else to convince them. I just hope it can happen without thousands of deaths this time._

* * *

As the years passed, Prussia was able to make his family see some sense. Well, most of them anyway. They began to see something in the idea of a unified Germany, just like Prussia did. And then there were those who disagreed. Saxony was against Prussia in this, just as he had been against Prussia in many things for a century already. Hanover didn't like the idea too much, either, as he just didn't see the need. Not half a century had passed since Holy Rome's death, he said, and Prussia was already trying to be the next Holy Roman Empire or something. Prussia had tried to tell him that it wouldn't be like the Holy Roman Empire, not the way he envisioned it, but that didn't help one bit in trying to convince his brother. Austria didn't like it either; he went around claiming that Prussia was only trying to grab power, that he didn't care about how his family felt about his decisions and that he was doing this only for his own personal gain. Prussia would have to deal with him no doubt, and every time the two cousins saw each other, the tension between them was only rising.  
Something happened in 1848 that got Prussia excited beyond belief; Hungary rebelled against Austria. Initially she stayed by his side and didn't seem to agree with her people, but their influence over her soon got the upper hand, and Prussia heard the two lovers started fighting more and more the moment the uprising turned into a true war for independence. Prussia more than once sent Hungary messages that he would support her to the fullest if she were to personally join her people, even though the Prussian army had nothing to do with it. Hungary wrote back to him that he should stay out of it, and her writing came across as offended and angry, until he read a post scriptum: ' _Also, I know you're still not over the effects of the famine, so please just take your time to recover before offering to help others. Dammit, I don't want you to starve to death, buddy. Take care of yourself, Gil.'_ He kept that letter hidden inside a book, safe from dust and anything else that might damage it. The last sentences were too precious.  
When Hungary's war for independence was over, lost, and the Hungarians were ruled over more strictly than ever before, Prussia felt a spark of hope that maybe it had destroyed their relationship at last. It had certainly put a strain on it.  
It wasn't until the early 50s that the Potato Famine came to an end. It was by then that Prussia heard about other nations and how they had fared in the famine: he himself had lost over 40,000 people due to it, Belgium had lost about the same amount. France was the third worst off on the mainland, having lost nearly 10,000 people. Scotland had lost many more and it would take a long time for him to recover.  
It was basically a miracle that Ireland had survived in the first place.

The unification as Prussia had envisioned it slowly came to be. In the 30s he had already managed to establish the Zollverein, a customs union, which already reduced the taxes paid when crossing a border within the German Confederation. Austria had never been part of it and he would never be as far as Prussia was concerned. Still it wasn't quite what the Prussian wanted yet.  
In 1848, a year known not only for the ongoing famine in Europe but also for the many 'revolutions', King Frederick William IV had been forced to make up the first-ever constitution for the German territories. In the same year the Frankfurt Parliament was set up and it was actually Frederick William IV, much to Prussia's anger and annoyance, who stopped the creation of a unified Germany.  
By the start of the 60s, things were really starting to look up for Prussia, when a new king was crowned.

King Wilhelm I appointed Otto von Bismarck to be Minister President of Prussia and also Foreign Minister in 1862, and Prussia quite liked the man after a certain conversation with him.  
"Germany will come into existence," the human stated, "and it shall be without Austria in it. Believe me, Prussia, I have several ideas on how to get rid of this Austrian pest. You shall rule over Germany and you alone."  
Prussia liked the idea, of course, but he knew a few people who wouldn't like it quite as much. About 30 of them, to be precise. "But Germany will be unified," he said carefully. "All states will work together as one."  
Something flashed in Bismarck's eyes at this, but he nodded. "Of course they will. But every strong group needs a leader, and you're the perfect candidate for that role, is what I mean."  
 _I can live with that,_ Prussia thought happily. Finally things were looking up for him, and he couldn't be happier. His dreams were closer to coming true than ever before, though it would take a lot of work yet to realise his plans. But with Bismarck and Frederick William IV, he was certain he could do it for real this time.  
The human then got to his feet and held his hand out to Prussia. The kingdom followed his example and shook his hand politely. "I look forward to reading your reports on our surrounding nations," Bismarck told him, referring to the reports that Prussia was to write on all the nations he knew about their personalities, his personal relationship with them, anything that might be useful for the Foreign Minister to know. He was going to have some sleepless nights yet, but it would be worth it. It had to be. "Well then," the human went on. "I take it you're as busy as me, so let's both go our own way for now. I'll see you soon, Prussia."  
Prussia laughed softly. "Well, nowadays I have more tasks to do than ever before –not just with the new form of government and all that, but also…" He sighed. "I completely forgot to go out for groceries yesterday, and my kitchen is empty right now. Awesome, isn't it?"  
Bismarck chuckled and shook his head in amusement. "I do not understand you, though; so many people would give anything to live like royalty, and you decided to give that life up and live the life of a middleclass man –one with unbreakable ties to the government, though."  
Prussia shrugged and said that it was always good to try something new –in this case something he hadn't tried in a couple of centuries. Then he went off.

* * *

Not too many years passed before the unification seemed to get closer with the week. By the time the year 1864 came around, Bismarck was named Chancellor of Prussia, and when Denmark tried to take the land of Schleswig, Prussia went to war against the older kingdom. Austria was his ally in this war, for Bismarck had made it so. The war took little more than half a year to fight, and Prussia and Austria won, dividing the land they'd taken from Denmark between the two of them.  
In 1866 it became clear to Prussia why Bismarck had wanted Austria to be their ally in the Danish-Prussian war: things were a bit rough in Schleswig and Bismarck only too gladly pinned the blame on Austria, using this as justification to take Holstein, the part of the territories given to Austria at the end of the war against Denmark.  
By then, Prussia had recovered completely from the famine, though his population wasn't quite back to what it used to be. Politically everything went almost perfect in his large kingdom. He was the most industrialised in his enormous family.  
Prussia was a force to be reckoned with like he had been when Old Fritz had commanded his army and led him to glory.  
Needless to say, when Austria declared war on Prussia, he didn't feel a twinge of fear, only excitement. It had been too long since his last war against Austria, he'd actually begun to miss it.  
Soon after, Prussia met with his numerous allies; the German territory had been divided into those who supported Prussia and those who supported Austria, and it was not at all how Prussia wanted it. He'd have to do something about Austria and show that sissy's allies that _he_ was the one they should follow. He was the Legendary Black Eagle. He was the Awesome Prussia. They would all be so much better off listening to them; he only wanted them to truly work together, and Austria had always, _always_ failed to bring about such a miracle. If Prussia couldn't do it, no one could. He had to try, and for that he needed to kick some Austrian ass again.  
Austria fought with Bavaria, Saxony –those at least Prussia had expected to fight on Austria's side- but also Hanover, Hesse, Württemberg, Nassau, Baden and many more. Prussia's allies consisted of Brunswick, Mecklenburg, Waldeck and others, amongst which Italy.

Italy Veneziano came running up to Prussia when he saw the albino, in his usual enthusiasm, and tackled him in a hug. "Hi Prussia!" he greeted him happily. "It's been a while. You look good!" He poked him in the cheek then, playfully so, and chuckled. "Good to see you've got a healthy layer of meat back on your bones, too; I heard how bad you had it, with the famine. Ve… It's good that all that is in the past, isn't it?"  
Prussia was a bit overwhelmed by him as usual, by nodded and smiled. He liked Veneziano a lot, and his enthusiasm about everything was actually rather cute. But God he could be fearsome when he wanted to… in the past at least. Prussia didn't know if that was still the case. He hoped it was.  
The Romano walked up to them as well, pushing his younger brother aside and looking up at Prussia with an annoyed brownish-green gaze. He was silent for a while, then huffed. "I hate all you potato-bastards," he grumbled out of the blue, surprising Prussia. "You all grow impossibly tall. Just turn around for one minute and they've outgrown you by far. Bastard."  
This made Prussia laugh. He didn't want to tell Romano right now, but Veneziano was taller than him, too. "Good to see you again, too, Romano," he answered when he'd stopped laughing, but by then the Italian was already even angrier at him. "You must've missed the blast of complete Awesomeness that's me, haven't you?"  
"Not really. Damn northern protestant buff snowflake-y demon potato-bastard."  
Veneziano stared at his brother wide-eyed, then gently pushed him away and told him to go and talk to someone else, then turned back to Prussia, flustered. But the albino was just staring at Romano, not sure if he was supposed to feel offended. Probably so, but the words he'd said had made no sense at all. "I'm so sorry for that," the Italian stammered, glancing at his brother again before carefully meeting Prussia's gaze when the younger kingdom looked back at him. "He doesn't really like northerners of any kind because they're taller than him, he's still touchy about religion sometimes and he hates potatoes and most Germans really and-"  
"That's all fine," Prussia said dismissively, looking over his shoulder at Romano, narrowing his eyes. Then he huffed and added in a mutter: "He could've left the albinism out of it, though."  
"Yes, well… that's _fratello_ for you." Veneziano then cracked a smile again. "He called you buff, though. That's a compliment!"  
Prussia sighed. "Is it?" Then he shook his head and just went to the others. He called them all to gather around so that he could discuss their tactics and motives with them, and his allies came to stand around him within seconds. "First of all, let me thank you all for standing with me as we teach this meddling Austrian a lesson once and for all," the Prussian said to them. "We all have the same goals, and therefore it is only natural that we should cooperate."  
"No need to thank us," Brunswick then said, grinning. "I love your ideas of a Germany without Austria in it."  
"Absolutely," Waldeck agreed with her, nodding seriously. "I don't dislike Austria, but if we let him create Germany, that would mean we have an empire of Germans, Bohemians, Hungarians, Italians… anything he can get his hands on. And then how would we be Germany? The only way to ensure that we truly become _Germany_ together is to kick him out. Simple as that."  
Brunswick giggled then, her green eyes twinkling with joy. "And maybe Switzerland, but hey, that guy doesn't want to get involved anyway. And Liechtenstein just follows everything that 'big brother Swiss' says. Girl doesn't have a spine, I tell you."  
Mecklenburg joined in now, too, looking at Prussia as he spoke. "Now _you_ , on the other hand," he began with a smirk, "you've got more guts than anyone I've ever seen before. I like that. Let the others complain about you, they just don't appreciate your strength at all –they fear it. They fear you and your power. Not me, I can promise you."  
Suddenly Brunswick threw her arms up in the air and started cheering. "All hail the Black Eagle! Saviour of the Germans!" And then the others joined in, except Italy of course. They just stared at the others in surprise, and Romano started muttering about those 'damn potato-heads' again.  
Prussia could only stare as well, shocked by all this. This wasn't what he had intended… but did it really matter? They loved him. They loved his ideas. That was all he had ever wanted, all he needed. _People who believe in me and want to work with me…_ He'd thought the day would never come. They were cheering, and they were cheering for _him_. He actually felt choked up with sheer happiness, but he tried not to show it. He masked it with a grin, his usual cocky attitude. "That's right!" he told them once they'd stopped cheering. "Follow me and we'll achieve greatness together. Work with me now, and you'll be rewarded! Fight beside me now and we'll establish a true Germany!"  
And they cheered again. Prussia loved it, and listened with pride. _This is what I worked for, what I fought for all my life._  
He had always believed in the strength of the Holy Roman Empire, not just because of his love for his late brother, but because he truly loved the idea of so many nations working together as one, sharing their strength, sharing their fortune and misfortune, standing together as they faced troubles and then celebrating together once they'd conquered those. Was it not the most beautiful idea in the world? Was it not the true definition of peace?

Prussia's army had many advantages over Austria's; for one, he could mobilise his army in about half the time that Austria needed due to his railways, of which he had five in his borders and Austria had only a single one. That, and Austria's army was considerably smaller than Prussia's. Prussia's army had modern firearms that Austria did not have possession or knowledge of. Austria was still suffering under the economic effects of Hungary's War for Independence as well as Italy's, which had come not too long after Hungary's.  
All in all, Austria simply didn't stand a chance. It was the simple and honest truth, and Prussia entered the first battle with confidence.

He would create Germany, and Austria would not be part of it.

* * *

 **While in the modern world it would not work, back in these days, I actually see sense in Prussia and the other states' reasoning for throwing out Austria. It really doesn't work to establish a new country but have people of completely different ethnic backgrounds living in it. Well, as I said, we're not used to anything else these days and I don't believe we should be used to different, I love the cultural diversity in the modern world, but back then things were just different.**

 **Anyway, the Seven Weeks' War will be in the next chapter, along with some stuff that Prussia _isn't_ going to be happy about (let's see how many of you can guess this one -I don't think it's too hard, really) and then, in two or three chapters... guess who'll be born!  
(Also, there's another 'prepare your hearts' coming up at the end of this, I'm very sorry.)**

 **Ehehehe... on that bombshell... (don't kill me for all the angst!)**

 **Thanks for reading, all!**


	55. Chapter 55

**MissiriKoharehn, TheOldKaiser, pinkdoughnuts, Abc, Polish reader and awesome cookies, thanks for the reviews! (And thanks for pointing out my mistake!)  
Ah... I can't answer that question, now can I, TheOldKaiser? Those who've read Rising and Trouble (and paid attention to details) would know a bit more. But you'll see in the next 2-3 chapters, including this one. So you won't have to wait long for the answer!**

 **By the way, 'the next 2-3 chapters' (excluding this one in this case) is all that's still coming. Yup. It's nearly Hope to Die's turn to, uhm, turn up here.**

 **So yeah, Cross Your Heart is nearly done. Doesn't mean that this story is nearly done, too, no worries. Hope to Die will pick up where this one leaves off. Or a couple of years later, perhaps.**

 **Anyway, on to the chapter:**

* * *

 _2 July 1866_

 _Tomorrow I am to face off with Austria yet again here in Bohemia. His old army isn't a match for me at all.  
Therefore I am ashamed to admit that I have not won every battle against this idiot. Hanover won against me, too, but he has already surrendered, so that's good. Either way, really, this war is already won. Austria cannot win, he should know as much, so why not follow Hanover's example and just give up? I'm not planning to take any of his land, really, I just want him to stay out of my way as I go about creating Germany. Is that too much to ask for?  
Well, the damn aristocrat will sure get what he's got coming, I can promise you!_

The battle had lasted a few hours now, and Prussia was taking a break in one of the towns his army had managed to capture from the Austrians, patching up some of the injuries on his soldiers already; he wore a satchel on his belt today, containing needles, a small bottle of alcohol and stitching thread, so that he could help when necessary.  
Right now he was busy patching up a young man, basically still a boy. "Don't worry," he said to the young soldier with a reassuring smile, "just give your arm some rest now, and your shoulder will be good as new. You'll be able to go back home to your family in one piece –and with a battle scar to brag about." He smirked then, and in a hushed voice he added: "If I were you, I'd spice the story up a bit, too! Always works."  
The soldier smiled at this and thanked him, and Prussia then got up and looked around. There wasn't anyone else who needed his help immediately now, so he could go back to work out on the battlefield. Silently he hooked his satchel back onto his belt and grabbed his sword again, too, heading out. He climbed back onto his horse and rode to where he knew his army would be fighting now at high speed.

But he hadn't gotten too far yet when he heard a loud bang, and moments later he lay on the ground, his left shoulder burning in pain and his horse whinnying frantically. Before Prussia could very well sit up, something sharp pricked into his chest, and he opened his eyes to see a bayonet just about piercing his skin. Following the weapon, he saw Saxony standing over him, and he felt a twinge of fear. Surely Saxony wouldn't try to kill him?  
But he showed none of that fear as his brother pressed the bayonet a millimetre or so deeper into his skin and gritted his teeth in rage. "You damn bastard," the Saxon began angrily. How I never saw how treacherous you can be is beyond me. Someone should have killed you long before you even became a kingdom –that's when everything went downhill for all of us."  
Prussia listened in silence, and though the words hurt, the pain they left wasn't too bad. He pulled the tip of Saxony's bayonet out from between his ribs and flung his brother's weapon away with ease, then got to his feet. He didn't draw his sword yet, but he kept his hand on it threateningly. "Back off, Saxony," he told the Saxon in an angry growl. "You should've just thought like Hanover and surrendered already. This is the day that I'll crush _Austria;_ I have no desire to hurt you as well."  
"Liar," the older nation protested, eyeing Prussia's left hand carefully; the kingdom had tightened his grip on his sword as he spoke. "Ever since you rose to power, hurting others is all you've done. Don't you realise that? Don't you see how much suffering you've caused?" He gave his younger brother a shove, and Prussia had to do his best to stay on his feet. Saxony was still as strong ever. "Austria's right about you!" the Saxon then exclaimed, brown eyes ablaze with anger. "You're just a power-hungry bastard who doesn't give a shit about his family! How are we all supposed to trust you with all you want to change for us? Haven't you done enough? You've taken over so much land in the past 150 years, you've established your Zollverein, you have become a goddamn _legend_ among some for the speed with which you rose to power –when will it be enough?" He didn't give Prussia a chance to reply, and instead hit him in the face a second later.  
Prussia was tempted to grab his sword for real now, but he reminded himself that this was his brother just in time. Instead he glared at Saxony. "It will be enough once I've established Germany," he told him. "Once we're all united and working together as the greatest empire the world has ever seen!"  
"Don't make me laugh," Saxony grumbled, pure hatred in his eyes. "You don't want us to work together, you just want to be the next Holy Roman Empire. Don't think I've forgotten how much you adored him from basically day one. You may be a real hotshot within the family these days, but don't you forget that, deep down, you're still just a little kid who just misses his big brother and hopes he can bring him back to life."  
For this Prussia punched him in the face, knocking him back. "You have no idea what you're talking about!" he yelled at Saxony. "I'm not so stupid that I believe I can bring Holy Rome back –he's gone forever, I know that! But that doesn't change the fact that I want us to live and work together and-"  
"You're just a fool, Prussia."  
"You're just a sore loser!"  
Saxony then charged forward again, trying to draw his sword, but Prussia was faster. In a swift, instinctive movement, the albino slashed at Saxony in an attempt to defend himself. His heart skipped a beat in distress when his sword cut into his brother's face, from his jaw to his right brow and crossing his nose. Blood spurted from the wound, and Saxony fell back again with a scream of pain.  
"Saxony!" Prussia exclaimed, crashing onto his knees beside his bleeding brother. "I didn't- I'm so sorry, I- H-hang on, Sax, I'll-!"  
"Shut up!" the Saxon interrupted him, sounding scared and in pain, and he flailed both his arms into the air, and Prussia noticed he was trying to push the younger kingdom away, but… "Goddammit, Prussia, I… I can't see, dammit!"  
Prussia's breath caught in his throat as he traced the deep cut in the Saxon's face; it ran from the left tip of his jaw over his cheek, across his nose… and it has cut into his left eye, as well. The right was left untouched, but the blood that oozed into it blinded him on that side now, too. He felt sick as he reached for the satchel on his belt. "I can help," he told his brother, trying to sound calm. "Let me help you, please."  
Saxony shook his head, but his protest was feeble, and he gave in. When he heard Prussia fumble with his things, he asked nervously: "W-what are you doing?"  
The Prussian decided he would have to tell him everything he would do. "I'm soaking a bit of my uniform in alcohol," he explained with a trembling voice. "To clean out the wound. It'll sting, but-"  
"I'm not a baby, Prussia," Saxony huffed, though he sounded terrified. "I know it stings, and I don't care. Just… just do it."  
The wounded Saxon grunted in pain when Prussia cleaned out the wound, but the albino kept going. "I'll make stitches over your left cheek," he then said softly. "The skin on your nose is too close to the bone, I don't think I can very well… A-anyway, the bit on your brow will be stitched too, a-all right?"  
"Stop talking and just…" Saxony sighed then, trailing off, and didn't speak afterward.  
Of course that made Prussia's work easier on him, but it got him more distressed with the second. Saxony wasn't the type to be quiet, and it scared Prussia. _Stay alive, stay alive…_ He was terrified for his brother as he looked at his blood soaked face and he felt sick with guilt. _I can't kill again, not again… Please, Saxony, you have to survive!_  
When he was done, Saxony let out a shaky sigh. "That hurt…"  
"Don't move," Prussia warned him. "Don't talk, you don't want to bust the stitches." He then carefully helped the partially blinded nation onto his horse and sat down behind him, moving quickly but carefully. Saxony leant against him heavily, his breathing coming in quick gasps by now, and he was trembling.  
Despite Prussia's warnings, eventually Saxony started talking again. "I'm sorry if you thought I hated you," he told Prussia in a trembling voice. "Because I don't… I despise you for all you've done, but you're my brother. I don't like you, but I could never hate you. In fact… I admire you." Prussia hushed him, but the Saxon ignored the younger nation. "They all saw something in you… Holy Rome, Brandenburg, even Hesse and Hanover and Württemberg. I suppose it wasn't all misguided on their part."  
"Saxony, be careful," Prussia insisted, getting scared for his brother all over again. What if something went wrong?  
But the Saxon sighed. "I'm being careful, I promise. I need to… I need to talk. For my own good right now… You understand?"  
Prussia nodded, but Saxony didn't react to that. His stomach twisting, the albino choked out a 'yes', feeling sick as he thought about how he had no choice but to speak now, simply because it reminded him that Saxony couldn't see, that _he'd blinded his brother._ Prussia held him closer subconsciously. He hoped he could find the enemy camp in time –Saxony could not give him any real directions anymore now.  
Meanwhile Saxony kept talking softly, his words sometimes inaudible to Prussia, other moments he could follow him quite well. He spoke of the past, of how things had changed between him and Prussia. Random things, really, just to keep himself talking as he had said he needed to. And eventually, when Prussia could barely hear him anymore, he whispered: "You know, I… Actually… _I'm scared_."  
"I'm trying to find your army," Prussia then explained, realising that he hadn't cleared that up to his brother yet. "There's no need to be scared of anything, Saxony. I'll find them, and they'll have supplies to help you more, and…"  
Saxony hummed, not at all convinced. "And then what?" he stammered, sounding terrified. "I should just live like this for the rest of my life? _Blind?_ " He whimpered then, pressing even closer to Prussia all on his own now. "I'm not sure if I want that… It's that which I'm scared off…"  
"I know," Prussia replied calmly. "I understand. It'll be fine, Saxony, we'll find something."

An eternity seemed to have passed before Prussia reached what looked like a base of operations for his enemies. It took until Prussia threw his sword onto the ground and held up one hand –holding Saxony with the other- for the Austrians and Saxons to rush to his side without their weapons drawn. He let them take Saxony from him as he jumped off his horse himself, then saw that one part of the stitching had opened up again somewhere along the way and had started bleeding massively again.  
Immediately he started explaining what had happened. "It was an accident," he choked out, eyes wide and his entire body trembling. "H-he attacked me and I was trying to defend myself and before I knew it, _this_ happened and I didn't mean to but he-!" Someone told him to shut up quickly, but he couldn't control himself anymore now that he finally had people who could help his brother. "I tried to do what I could with the stitches, and he should be fine for now, but he needs help and-!"  
" _Shut up!_ " someone then yelled at him, staring at the Prussian with blazing green eyes. "Can't you see? _He's dead._ "  
Prussia fell silent immediately, staring wide-eyed at his brother. He'd thought Saxony had run out of things to talk about. He'd hoped he had, when he'd stopped talking a few minutes before they got here. Now he saw he wasn't breathing anymore, either.  
His stomach made a somersault, and then a rock seemed to land in it. His heart sank and his knees buckled. Saxony was dead? By his hand? He shook his head, refusing to believe it yet. "He's not," he protested feebly. "H-he's not dead. He shouldn't be, he can't be!" But he was.  
Prussia had killed his brother.  
Numb, he looked around at the soldiers surrounding him. They stared at him with hostile gazes, and they had all the right to be furious with him. Still, he couldn't help but try: "Please… I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I… I tried to save him." Warm tears welled up in his eyes, and when he saw the looks the others still gave him, he didn't try to stop them. "He's my brother… _Please,_ may I have a moment alone with him? I'll be… forever grateful…"  
Finally the humans seemed to accept his presence more, and one of them –the highest in command present right now- nodded and told his men to leave Prussia alone for the time being, then ordered two others to bring Saxony somewhere where the kingdom could have some privacy with his brother.  
Prussia thanked him, then requested for some water to be brought into the room as well –he wanted to at least clean the Saxon's face a bit. He couldn't do anything about the giant gash in his face, it wouldn't heal post mortem, but he could redo the stitches and clean the blood away. He deserved to be seen looking as much like himself as he could be, when the family would lay eyes on the kingdom for the last time.

"I'm so very sorry, Saxony," Prussia whispered to his brother as he dabbed at his bloodied face, careful as though he could still feel it. "For everything. I know I've hurt you, I know… I know I should've been more grateful for all the things you've given me. You've helped me and supported me so much in the past, and how have I repaid all that? By basically taking all you had…" He felt choked up, and he could feel fresh tears welling up in his eyes. "You had all the right to be so angry with me. I would've hated me, too, if I had been in your position. And yet…" _I could never hate you._ Prussia bit back a whimper. "How can you not?" He gritted his teeth as he finished cleaning away all the blood. Saxony was nearly himself again now, if only it wasn't for… It was so deep. Prussia could basically see his cheekbone. The bone in his nose had actually been cracked by the sword. His eye…  
 _I did this…_  
Suddenly the Prussian threw the blood-soaked cloth away, screaming in frustration. "Why?! _Why me?!_ Why must it always be _me_ who ends up doing… doing… _this!_ I didn't mean to kill Bavaria, I didn't mean to kill Saxony, so _why?!_ " But then, Bavaria hadn't been an accident, had it? Maybe one could view it as such, considering that when he'd regained some sense he regretted it with all his heart. But when Prussia thrust his sword into her chest, he had wanted her to die, and he had wanted to kill her.  
He had murdered Bavaria, but he hadn't murdered Saxony. Murder was intentional.  
But what did that change? Prussia was still the one thing he had sworn to never become. He was still a murderer, and he had just killed again.  
How was he supposed to live with himself, knowing that he was the one thing he hated most in this world? He was the man who was supposed to do great things, so why did he screw up all the time in such a horrible way?

When Prussia finally returned to his troops, the battle was over, and he'd won. The kingdom was immediately being told off by his commanders for not showing up for the majority of the battle. He only needed to reply that 'Saxony died' for them to leave him alone for the rest of the day. Prussia wrote letters to both his allies and his enemies, to try and explain the situation before they would accuse him of murder. He didn't want them to have the wrong idea.

* * *

The loss of Saxony dampened his spirit, and he didn't feel nearly as victorious when, after mere weeks, seven to be more precise, he beat Austria and got to disband the German Confederation; he kicked out Austria and all pro-French states, being Bayern, Bavaria and Württemberg, the southern layer of the former German Confederation, and with the remaining states he then formed the North German Confederation instead.  
Much to Prussia's relief, no one, not enemy and not ally, blamed him for Saxony's death. Everyone appreciated it when he declared he would take the care of the kingdom's reincarnation unto himself, though. But no such reincarnation was born in the months after the war, and Prussia lost hope that he would be reincarnated at all. But why not? Sure, Prussia occupied a lot of his former land, but there was plenty to still be represented separately. So why?  
His mind was taken off all that when he received a letter at the start of 1867, one that got his blood boiling.

 _To the Kingdom of Prussia_

 _It is our great pleasure to inform you of the soon to be established union between the Empire of Austria and the Kingdom of Hungary.  
We hereby invite you to attend the wedding between these two nations, which is to be held on 30 March this year. It-_

He stopped reading. His heart and his mind were empty, devoid of any feeling, any thought, any life. Then he looked at the letter, and thought about what a sick joke it was. But Hungary had rebelled against Austria! They'd fought, and it looked like they would break up and-  
And they were getting _married?_  
He ignored the letter for the rest of the day as he went about his work, but late in the evening, when he finished for the day and had dinner, he saw it lying on the corner of his table. He lost his appetite in a heartbeat, and with a sigh he picked it up and read the rest of the letter. They wanted him there? Prussia guessed a human had written this rather than Austria or Hungary themselves, and probably not too willingly. His king would probably tell him he had to go, and he wouldn't be allowed to refuse.  
Was this punishment for the accident with Saxony?  
He huffed and grabbed paper, an inkwell and a pen, then began to write quickly:

 _12 January 1867_

 _To the Austrian Empire and the Kingdom of Hungary,_

 _My apologies that I won't be able to attend your wedding. I'm trying to establish an empire that will outshine any empire before it and it's keeping me very busy, as you can probably imagine.  
Also, Austria, you've got some nerve, pulling something like this shortly after I kicked your sissy ass in that war. I beat you in just seven measly weeks, after all. Must hurt, doesn't it?  
Lizzie, you're a fool for marrying this guy. If you're being forced into this against your will, send me an SOS letter asap, and I will come get you out of there. No, I won't force you to marry me instead. (Can I, though?) If this is your own free will, I stick with what I said about you being a fool. But then, I've always called you Crazy Woman, haven't I? Name suits you, idiot.  
Then, I suppose you're not exactly waiting for my blessing for this wedding, which is good. Because you're not getting it. Ever.  
In short, I'm not coming, I hate you, leave me alone.  
Watching the woman I've loved for centuries marry the man I've hated for centuries?  
No._

 _Fuck you kindly,_

 _Prussia_

Well. It was a rough draft, but it got the message across pretty well.  
Prussia then crumpled the letter from Austria and Hungary and threw it into the fireplace he'd lit a few minutes ago, watching it burn to as crisp.

Still, on 30 March, Prussia was in Vienna with the rest of his family. It was quite the grand wedding, more so than his own had been, and he hated being there with so many people. He avoided Austria and Hungary as much as he could, but they were hard to miss once the actual wedding ceremony started.  
Hesse and Hanover had placed themselves on either side of Prussia, as if they were bodyguards. And frankly, they were acting as bodyguards, but to Austria and Hungary instead of Prussia, and the albino kingdom felt like a prisoner between them. Prussia just huffed and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders raised and his eyes narrowed grumpily.  
Just before Austria and Hungary would say their vows, Hesse nudged Prussia, whispering sharply: "Stop pouting like a child, Prussia." He sounded angry. "You don't need to ruin this day for them. At least pretend to be happy for them."  
"But they know I'm not happy," the Prussian protested in a mutter. "Why should I care, anyway?"  
Hungary was then asked that godawful question, would she take Austria as her husband. Prussia gritted his teeth. "Please say no."  
"I do."  
"Fuck off, girl. Worst mistake in your life, I tell you."  
"Prussia, do shut up."  
The albino huffed again and went back to pouting as he watched the wedding. Austria seemed much too willing to say 'I do' as well, and Prussia's stomach started doing backflips when they kissed. It wasn't the first time he'd seen them kiss, but this one… this one was so _official_. They were married now. They were married, they still loved each other, they were probably very happy together.  
It was all over now.  
Hungary was officially Austria's wife, far out of Prussia's reach, something he could only dream of now. _You've won, Sissy,_ he thought sadly as he watched them part after the kiss. Hungary's beautiful green eyes were sparkling brightly as she gazed at her new husband. _You've won…_

Prussia kept to himself as much as he could at the reception, glancing at Hungary now and then, but his heart ached when he did so. He'd loved being her friend, it had been so much better than having her hate him. But sometimes being her friend just _wasn't enough._ Maybe it would've been easier on him if she'd married someone he actually liked, someone of whom he could understand what she saw in them. But Austria was just… just Austria. He was an arrogant prick, a real sissy aristocrat boy, and he was so different from Hungary; she was strong in every definition of the word, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and never sugar-coated her words like Austria did. She was a free spirit, while Austria was stuck-up and too much a stickler for the rules. Hungary was so kind deep inside… Her words could sting like a sword but still hold traces of warmth. Austria's voice could be sweet and smooth as honey but with hidden mockery and disdain for anyone 'below' him.  
They were opposites! Complete, utter, _polar_ opposites. How could she love him? How could he love her?  
Suddenly the wineglass Prussia held in his left hand shattered in his grip, which he hadn't even noticed had grown tighter. Red wine dripped from his fingertips, soon mingled with blood as the glass cut into his hand. He grunted and rolled his eyes, sighing when Austria, who stood close enough to have noticed it, turned to him with an annoyed shimmer in his eyes. "Prussia, can't you be more careful? Those aren't very cheap."  
Prussia turned to him with a smirk, sarcasm evident in every inch of his face as he sneered: "Well, it's not my fault that these _expensive_ glasses are too fragile for my awesomeness." He was plucking glass from his palm as he talked, ignoring the pain, and threw the shards onto the floor around him. Austria stared at it all with a grimace, and that became even worse when Prussia walked over to him and gave him a 'friendly', rather patronising pat on the cheek with his bloodied hand. "Hey, congrats on the wedding, sissy," the albino said sharply in a hushed voice. "The worst time of your life has just begun. Marriage always ends and it always ends in _pain._ " His breath caught in his throat and his gaze hardened as he looked Austria deep in the eyes, adding: "Now when the time comes, if you don't do everything in your power to spare her that pain, I swear I'll kill you."  
"Like you killed Bavaria?" Austria demanded angrily, glaring. At least he had the sense to whisper, still keeping this a secret between him and Prussia. Why, though, Prussia didn't understand. "And Saxony?"  
Prussia only gritted his teeth and turned around, walking away angrily. That had just crossed the line, crossed it a million times over. Like he wasn't feeling guilty enough yet!  
But Austria was just as angry, and called after him. "Typical Prussia! You're fine with taunting others, but when the response gets a little too close to home for you, you turn tail and run!" Prussia stopped beside a table, standing completely still, letting the words wash over him. He grabbed another wineglass and calmly drank that as he listened to his cousin's rant about him. "You know what I hate most about you? It's how you always try to find excuses for your behaviour. 'I wasn't myself at that moment', or 'it was an accident!' Even better: 'Whatever I did, it was unintentional'. _Unintentional my ass!_ You know as well as I do that you're a murderer, Prussia, so why don't you take responsibility for your actions? Grow up and admit that you're a criminal who's killed people in cold blood!"  
Prussia had gotten more tense with each word, trying in vain to control himself. It might be a wedding, it might be a celebration, but Austria was asking for it. At lightning speed the Prussia spun around and flung his empty wineglass at Prussia, missing his stupid face by a hair. "They're not excuses if they're the truth!" he retorted, yelling. Everyone had gotten quiet by now and stared at the two in shocked silence, but Prussia ignored them. It was just him and Austria, no one else. He wouldn't hold back. "If you're too stupid to let go of your grudges, that's not my problem! If you're too blind to see that you have no reason to complain, that you have _every fucking thing_ a man could wish for, that's not my fault! Yes, I've done things I regret, but between us, _you're_ the unbelievable one! You resent me for trying every day to climb up and make something of my accursed life while you were born with everything you could ever need. You hate me for the mistakes I've made, but you fail to see that you are the most insufferable prick in the entire world! _You're_ the one who's never satisfied with what he has –at least I have reason for all my actions, I really started from _nothing_ and had to fight and make sacrifices for every goddamn thing I've ever achieved in my life! And you, goddammit, you have _no idea_ how hard all that has been and still is –of course I make mistakes!"  
Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned around again and walked away, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

It felt like hours had passed before Prussia saw another face again; he'd gone off without paying attention to where he was going, but when he found himself in what appeared to be a storage room and found a collection of different wines in there, he counted himself lucky. Being drunk was exactly the thing he needed right now, and by the time he heard the door creak open, he'd drunk an entire bottle already and had just started on the second. He was rather drunk indeed.  
His stomach twisted when he saw that it was Hungary who had come to look for him. She looked uncomfortable being alone with him while he was in this mood, but could barely see that. Austria was so lucky, once again. She looked stunning in her wedding dress, a goddess. She sighed as she saw him take another sip of wine. "Gil," she began carefully, "I think you've had enough of that."  
Prussia sighed and turned away, though he did put the bottle away; he had to admit that she was right, if not for the amount of alcohol then for the amount of plain liquid. "You should be with you precious husband," he told her with a huff. "Go away and leave me alone. I'm perfectly fine here on my own."  
"I don't think you are," Hungary replied calmly, sitting down beside him. It appeared to be a bit of a struggle in that dress, but she managed, and soon looked more comfortable again. They were both quiet for a little while, until Hungary sighed deeply. "Prussia, can't you try to be more… likeable? It's my wedding day. You haven't quite ruined it, it wasn't _that_ bad, or rather, it wasn't unexpected. But still, I…" She trailed off as she looked at him, blinking once. "Roderich stepped out of line, too, I told him that. He was seeking a confrontation as much as you were, and he shouldn't have."  
"I wasn't seeking anything other than solitude," Prussia protested, still not looking at her. "I didn't want to be here in the first place!"  
Hungary was silent for a moment, and Prussia feared those words had hurt her. But then she answered softly: "I know. Gil, if you… if you love me even half as much as I do Roderich, then I can only imagine how much being here today must hurt you."  
Prussia laughed dryly and shook his head. "I think you've got it backwards, Lizzie," he whispered, turning to look at her now, locking gazes with her. "If you love him… if he loves you even half as much as I do you… then you're lucky to have married him." He kept staring at Hungary, and saw her eyes turn glassy at his words, tears slowly welling up in them. He could see that she was biting the inside of her lip, trying not to make a sound.  
Not thinking, he crossed what little distance there was between them and kissed her. Much to his surprise, she didn't pull away from him, but neither did she kiss him back. She just let him do so, and waited patiently until he let go of her again. There was no anger in her gaze once he did, no surprise, not much of anything, only a silent apology before she told him softly: "You shouldn't do that again, Gil. Please… please don't. It's inappropriate now. I mean, it was so before, but even more now. I'm _married,_ Gil. I'm married to Roderich." He nodded solemnly, sighing deeply, and Hungary then wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Oh, but I do still love you, Gil," she told him. "I told you once and I will tell you again, that will never change. You will always be my dear friend."  
"Stop saying that," he pleaded, hiding his face in the crook of her slender neck. "Please, I… I don't want to be your _friend._ "  
"But you are," the Hungarian answered, sounding more stern now. "Nothing will change that, it just is as it is. I'm sorry, Gil."  
Prussia sighed and nodded. He would probably just have to put up with it for the rest of his life or something like that. Sure. So easy, he could do that, no problem at all. He was about to say something, but then his stomach did a somersault yet again, and he grunted instead before he could stop himself. Hungary turned to look at him again, in surprise this time, and her eyes began shining mischievously when she saw the look of discomfort on his face. "You're feeling sick, aren't you?"  
Prussia snorted, grinning. It was maybe a grimace, as well. "Maybe a little," he said dismissively.  
But Hungary wouldn't let it go that easily. She got to her feet again and stared down at him, smirking. "Ha! The Awesome Prussia has finally met his match, then! I remember you saying once that you can handle any amount of alcohol no problem." She leant down and ruffled his hair, chuckling softly. "Well, maybe that bit of boasting was _just_ boasting after all, then?" Prussia just glared at her, and it only took Hungary until she saw him cringe again when bile rose in his throat to walk away and grab a small, empty grain container for him. "Just use that, all right?" Prussia gratefully accepted the thing and thanked her for it. The young woman then smiled at him. "I'd better head back before anyone misses me," she told him softly. "It's my party, after all. Just hang in there, Gil; not even the worst hangover can last a lifetime."  
Prussia watched her go, finally feeling like he could forget his confrontation with Austria. When had it ever been different between them, after all? This was just another of those moments that would come and pass again, and soon they'd find something else to fight over.

* * *

When Prussia got back home a couple of days later, Bismarck was there, waiting for him. Prussia was surprised to see the human in his home, but he said nothing about it when the Chancellor asked him simply: "So, how was the wedding?"  
Prussia huffed. "Have you read my reports on Hungary and Austria?"  
"They were practically the first I picked up, yes."  
"There's your answer," Prussia just stated, sitting down at his desk and staring at Bismarck. "The wine was nice, though. Got pretty darn drunk on that, too." Bismarck huffed in silent, held-back laughter at this, as Prussia went on to ask him: "So what are you doing here?"  
Bismarck looked at Prussia calmly as he said: "I'm here to discuss the matter of Saxony with you." Prussia's heart sank at this, and he asked hoarsely what there was to say about him. The human looked unfazed by how much his kingdom seemed to hate this topic. "I know that you've been wondering why he hasn't been reborn yet," he went on, still calm. "Why do you think it is?"  
Prussia was taken aback by all this, and shook his head. "I don't know," he confessed. "I thought maybe I had taken over too much of his land before his death, but that can't be it, countries have survived on much less than he has –some permanently live on much less –my cousin Liechtenstein for one, plenty of other members of my family, too." He fell silent, thinking of other things that might have caused it, but he couldn't think of anything. He looked up at Bismarck with a pleading gaze then. "Do you have any idea, then?"  
The human didn't answer for a moment, only met his stare with an even one of his own, then shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Prussia, my apologies. I wish I could clear this up for you and your family." He then got up from where he sat, staring at his kingdom with a tiny smile on his lips. "Well now, I'd better get going again; I'm rather busy, as you can imagine. I'm glad to see you returned safely, Prussia. Goodbye for now."  
Prussia said goodbye as well, staring after the human as he left the nation's home, silent and confused. What had he come here for, really? He'd said they'd discuss Saxony, but then when they were just getting started, he just left? Prussia was still glad that he could work with Bismarck, the man was a genius, but sometimes…  
He hated not being able to tell what he was thinking.

 _16 July 1870_

 _France declared war on me today. He doesn't like the idea of the unification I'm pursuing. Well, not my damn problem, Stubble-face! I'm going through with this whether you like it or not. We're so close, so damn close now, and I'm not going to give up just because you're afraid of me.  
Because that is all they are, all of them. Austria, France, everyone who tries to oppose my plans. They're all just afraid of me and what I can do._

 _Hungary wrote me a letter just weeks ago. She said "I don't care what others think or say, I know how important all this is to you, so I will support you in uniting your family. I hope, for your sake Gil, that you succeed. But I also hope that you can do it without causing too much trouble for others. Saxony was sacrificed to create Germany, and I don't want you sacrificing anyone or anything else. Still, though I cannot and will not help you on a national scale, I just want you to know and remember whenever you're in a pinch… You've got a friend in me, and I will cheer you on. Go, create Germany, and lead your family to brighter days."  
She understands! Hungary finally understands and she supports me in this. I couldn't be happier._

 _Yes, Saxony was sacrificed for the sake of creating Germany, I see that now. I will not watch anyone else die to achieve this. I will make sure of it.  
But I will not stop no matter what._

 _We're too close now to give up._

* * *

 **Saxony's death? Blame my sister for it. I sometimes go to her for advice if I'm not sure what to do with a certain plot point, and when I'd written the accident between Prussia and Saxony I went to her again with the question: "Shall I let him live (he'll be half-blind then) after this and (...), or shall I let him die?"  
"...Kill him."  
**

 **That's kind of how it went XD (though she was being merciful on the poor man, really. He was honestly terrified at the idea of going blind, understandably, and he wasn't exactly afraid of death, so...)**

 **So yeah. Sorry for that.**

 **By the time the next chapter is posted, I'll probably be back in school. Oh, good stuff... (I'm one of those weird people who loves school). And even better stuff is the fact that we'll do German Unification and the World Wars in history class this year. Well, mix that up with the ending chapters of CYH and the main plot in HtD... Ah, the bliss~**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!**


	56. Chapter 56

**Unless I get sudden inspiration for something else to add, this is the second last chapter of Cross Your Heart.**

 **Also, a small update on that video that I was making... I was nearly done with it, had like 10 seconds at most to still make drawings for... and then the computer crashed. Motherboard just went *poof*. I do probably still have the files, but it will take a little while for me to be able to continue (otherwise it would've already been on YouTube a week ago, honestly).**

 **Aaannyways, thanks yet again to Darkgems and espeon64, MissiriKoharehn, pinkdoughnuts, Abc, TheOldKaiser and awesome cookies for the follows, favourites and reviews!**

 **I must apologise, there isn't much Franco-Prussian War in this, but there is something else most of you have mentioned.**

* * *

Near the end of 1870, Hanover was with Prussia. The kingdom was back in Berlin for a little while, for as the war against France went on, so did the process of unification. Hanover had written to him earlier that he would come by to discuss a few things with him, and perhaps help him with the massive stacks of paperwork.  
Right now he was just inspecting the Prussian curiously. "You look like the war's hardly affecting you," Hanover sighed eventually. "Doing so well against France, are we?"  
Prussia chuckled, but didn't look up from his work. "Of course, you've got me in the lead," he replied with a cocky grin. "You know that I don't lose against sissies, and France is as sissy as Austria is. Besides, with all we're fighting for, you don't think I'd let you all down, right?"  
Hanover was silent for a moment, but nodded then. "I suppose you're right." He was quiet for a moment longer then, during which Prussia finished writing one document and immediately went on to the other. When the albino yawned, Hanover moved a little closer. "Have you slept at all lately, though? I've lost count how many times I've heard you yawn in the few hours that I've been here. You look exhausted."  
"Not really," Prussia just answered with a sigh. "About the sleeping, that is. Ever since I came back from the siege on Paris, I've been writing and reading and writing and reading and… I love reading, I've been writing all my life, but I just honestly can't stand to look at that damn paper anymore. The scent of ink makes me sick by now." He then turned to look at Hanover, holding up his poor, overused and abused left hand. "Did you know that holding that damn pen all the time hurts more than fighting in a battle and holding a weapon does? The pen really _is_ mightier than the sword, all right."  
Hanover bit back his laughter after Prussia fell silent again, his eyes twinkling. "Are you done ranting now?" he asked, a shiver in his voice betraying his joy. When Prussia didn't answer, he just ruffled his brother's hair teasingly and chuckled.  
Eventually Prussia laughed along with him, then shook his head, turning back to his work. But he didn't get far with that until he sighed sadly. "You know," he began softly, dipping his pen back into the ink again, "the last time I had this much work to do and someone was bothering me like you are now, was nearly 100 years ago." He smiled at the memories, though they left him with an empty feeling in his chest, too. "France and Spain had decided it was a good idea to show up for my 600th birthday. Well… they got me into a lot of trouble, let's just keep it at that, and by the end of the day I had managed to finish _nothing_. We had fun, though." He sighed once again, shoulders slumped now. "Of course, not too long after that, the whole mess with Napoleon happened, and since then things with France have just never been as they used to be, and…"  
"And you miss him?" Hanover guessed, a lot more serious now, his voice gentle for once. Prussia didn't reply, but Hanover clearly knew that he was right, anyway. "You've been friends with him for a long time, it's only natural to miss him," he then pressed, giving Prussia a friendly nudge.  
But the kingdom didn't appreciate that much, and pushed him away, his gaze hardening. "We've been enemies longer than we've been friends," he said, more to himself than Hanover. "And now he wants to stand in the way of us forming Germany together. Demanding land from us… I'll take land from him, I'm telling you, the stupid stubble-faced frog."  
"You're talking as if we're already unified," Hanover then commented, but his voice was emotionless as he spoke, so fortunately Prussia knew that he wasn't angry about that fact. "But then, I suppose we're close to it anyway."  
"Württemberg, Bavaria and Baden want an alliance with the Confederation," Prussia stated proudly. "They'll be added to Germany when we get to create it soon, I swear. But not Austria." He fell quiet then, looking at Hanover with a questioning gaze. Guilt gnawed at him as he thought about this, as always, and he struggled to get the words over his lips. "Do you think…" he started, but trailed off, taking a deep breath before trying again. "Do you think that… that Saxony would've approved of all that we're doing now?"  
Grief now flashed in Hanover's eyes, too, and for a moment Prussia felt guilty for bringing it up. But then the older nation answered: "I'm not sure, to be honest. If you recall, he didn't really like the Holy Roman Empire, either –the empire, not the person, I mean. He wouldn't resent you for it… uh… that is, not more than he already did…" He stopped, his gaze troubled, and Prussia could basically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried hard to come up with a way to say it without offending Prussia. It was common knowledge that ever since the Silesian Wars, Prussia hadn't been the Saxon's favourite little brother, to put it mildly. But then Hanover sighed deeply, sadness overflowing in his eyes now as he said softly: "I… I actually dream about him sometimes. Memories of the past, some just random dreams, but one of them… _felt so real._ " He looked up at Prussia then, and the Prussian knew what was coming next. "I do that sometimes, you know… dream about those who've died."  
"Me too," Prussia replied. "Mostly Brandenburg, though, and Holy Rome too. They've both come to talk to me once or twice…" He smiled at those memories, remembering when Holy Rome came to him in a dream just shortly after Saxony's death. He recalled the former empire trying to tell him that it wasn't his fault and that Saxony knew that and didn't blame Prussia… anymore… but the Prussian still wouldn't believe it, not until he'd heard it from Saxony himself. And the older kingdom had never appeared in a dream yet, not in an actual visit or truly just a dream. Thankfully Prussia at least didn't have nightmares about him either, which he did fear would be the case after that traumatic day.  
But suddenly he realised just how side-tracked he and Hanover were getting, and he grabbed the documents he'd started reading again and told his brother to shut up now, that he was busy. Hanover huffed at this. "How rude, being so blunt about it," he complained, teasing Prussia a little, for he was smirking as he spoke.  
The albino stared at him with twinkling red eyes, snickering a little. "Well, turns out that you're no better than France and Spain were!"  
For this, Hanover smacked him over the head.

* * *

Before the war had formally ended, Prussia found himself in Versailles with all of his family. It was 18 January 1871, and it was perhaps the best day of his life. It was the most exciting, for sure.  
This day surpassed the day that he became a duchy by far. The day that he became independent from Poland fell into naught compared to this day. The moment he heard that he would be a kingdom was perhaps closest to this glorious moment, but it was still nothing in comparison to what he felt now.  
Finally… this was the day.

Prussia had returned to Paris, which was still under siege by the Prussian army, at the start of the year. He had been confronted and threatened by a battered and bruised France, and laughed in his face for it. France had somehow managed to sneak up on him and place a knife to the Prussian's throat before he noticed the older nation's presence, and really, that was an achievement which Prussia did not deny. But France's effort had been futile nonetheless.  
"You're a threat to all of Europe," he had told Prussia as he held the knife to his throat. "You're a threat that needs to be taken care of. I don't want to kill you, Prussia…"  
"So don't," the kingdom replied coolly, unimpressed. "It's very easy, really; just put the knife away and make a run for it. The latter because I do not appreciate this _at all._ " Of course he knew that it wasn't going to work. Of course he knew that it would only anger France further. Oh, but he did so love playing with him like this right now; the damn Frenchie deserved it tenfold.  
"I can't let you create Germany," France insisted, pressing the knife closer. Maybe he was drawing blood now, maybe not. It wouldn't be much anyway. "You're disrupting the balance of Europe like this. No, of the world even!" Prussia could hear him grit his teeth in distress. "Someone should've stopped you at the very first sign that you would pull something like this!"  
"Ah, but I must disappoint you," Prussia then told him, still just as calm. "You see, France, my death won't stop the unification. You _might_ end up killing 'Prussia' permanently though, if my theory is right." France's grip slackened, but only a little, as he listened to the younger kingdom. "I've been thinking, you see. About why Saxony isn't back yet. About why everyone was reborn if they died under the Holy Roman Empire," Prussia went on. "It's because they weren't united under Holy Rome, not really. There was no nationalism fuelling their unity then, so basically, the people thought of all the other countries' people as 'different', and so, by extension, we really _were_ too different." France muttered something under his breath at this, but Prussia only went on. "Nowadays, as you must've noticed, the people almost all view themselves as 'German'. Maybe they're 'Prussian German' or 'Hessian German' or even 'Bavarian German', but they're all the same in essence. Their ethnic brothers and sisters. We're more united now than ever before, and honestly, I've got you to thank for this. Napoleon Bonaparte took care of that, for starters. Anyway, as for why Saxony isn't back yet… this is purely theoretical, of course. But I believe that we're so strongly connected now, not only in blood but in our hearts as well, that we don't need separate personifications anymore. It has happened before, hasn't it? Not too often, I know… But great empires of the past have sometimes made separate personifications unnecessary, right?" He chuckled, enjoying how he noticed France being more confused yet somehow seeing sense in all this. "It's why everyone always ends up rebelling against their governing nations, right, if they're part of an empire like that? They're all afraid that they'll die for real if something happens."  
France's grip on him tightened again, pinching his shoulder painfully, but then he sighed and moved away. Prussia turned around to face him then, and France huffed, glaring at him. "I hate your brain," he stated coldly. Prussia snickered at this, asking him if he was making too much sense. France blinked at him, his gaze emotionless. "Maybe, but you could also be overthinking it."  
"Either way," Prussia responded, shrugging, "I'm right that you won't be able to stop the unification. And… disrupting the balance of the world? _Please._ " He then turned around and walked away, half expecting a knife to be thrust into his back, but France didn't make a move and simply let him go.  
Since then he and France hadn't spoken a word to each other.

And now the day had finally come, just days after that confrontation. Maybe the unification wasn't quite official yet, but King Wilhelm I of Prussia was now going to be proclaimed Emperor of the Germans. The North German Confederation, together with the states that had joined Prussia against France, now formed Germany. It might still take some time until it all was ratified, but here was the base of Prussia's dreams coming true. This was what all his work had been for.  
He watched with pride as the people cheered for their soon-to-be new emperor, then gazed at all of his family members gathered around as well. They looked as excited as he felt, some mingled with some doubt, but no one looked unhappy or reluctant. He couldn't blame them for doubting if this was the right thing to do; it was such a big change, of course they would have their fears. Frankly, he was looking to the future with a twinge of fear himself, but it was that fear that drove him to excitement. There would be so many things left to conquer for this family, but this time they would do it _together_.  
The Prussian tilted his face up, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. _I've finally begun to serve my purpose,_ he told everyone who was up there, watching from afar. _Whatever reason you've had for making my path so difficult, I've gotten through, and I've done it. I hope that my family will really benefit from this. I'm certain they will._ He opened his eyes again, glancing around the Hall of Mirrors. And for just a split second, as he saw his own reflection in the mirrors in the wall, he also saw the reflection of a young woman, not quite out of her teens, with light brown hair standing by his side. On his other side stood a blonde boy, barely more than half his length. A split second was all it lasted, but it was all he needed for his heart to overflow with warmth and gratitude. _I'm glad of your approval… Brand, Holy Rome…_  
He was so much in thought, his head spinning with all these different things, that he hardly noticed when Wilhelm I was proclaimed emperor. His heart was racing in his chest as cheering broke out more than before, the noise pounding his ears. It felt like his head was swimming in it, and he had to remind himself to breathe. His heart was beating so quickly in all the excitement, it actually hurt.  
It was only when the pain kept on increasing that he realised something was wrong. He could barely breathe, and he only got dizzier with the heartbeat. He glanced around, noticing that some of his family members weren't feeling too great, either; Hanover was leaning against a wall, one hand on his chest as he tried carefully to take deep breaths. Waldeck was looking pale, and Brunswick leaned against him with her eyes closed, probably feeling about as dizzy as Prussia was. He then whipped his head around, wondering frantically what was going on, and saw Hesse and Bavaria looking uneasy, too. But he'd spun around too fast, and the room and all the people kept on spinning before his eyes, and then everything went black.

The next thing he knew, he lay on the floor, a pale-faced Hesse knelt beside him and Württemberg leaning heavily on his cane on the Prussian's other side, looking down with a worried gaze. When Prussia sat up, Hesse supported him with a hand on his back, but the kingdom felt that he wasn't feeling too great himself and his hand trembled as he helped the younger nation up. "Take it easy now," he said in a hushed voice. "What happened? You just collapsed."  
Prussia shook his head. The dizziness was gone. Confused, he gazed around for a moment. Thankfully not all eyes were on him, and he saw Hanover now sitting against the wall rather than standing, and Waldeck was helping Brunswick back to her feet.  
Hesse followed his gaze and sighed. "Well, and you're not the only one. You've only been out of it for a couple of seconds, really, no need to worry."  
Prussia nodded silently and got to his feet, refusing help from Hesse or anyone with that. The dizziness wasn't the only thing that was gone, the pain in his chest was, too. He felt like he hadn't had this much oxygen in a long time. His head was clear… Everything that had gone wrong in that moment was gone now, and he'd never felt better.  
Just as he thought this and he looked around again, he saw Hanover stand up again as well, Hesse and Waldeck got some colour back in their faces, and Brunswick and Württemberg stood steadily as if nothing had ever happened.  
And then he smiled, his eyes shining as he looked around. The humans, shocked for a moment by the nations' reactions to this, seemed to slowly start to feel easier, too, and soon there was soft talking in the hall again. Out of all the nations, it was Hanover who spoke first. Well… 'spoke'. "Whoooo!" he cheered, laughing a bit. "Oh, man, that was _intense_! Do you all feel great too? Because I feel _great_! Like, _wow_ , this is-!"  
"We get it, Hanover," Hesse chuckled, silencing him. "Yes, I feel the same. I think we all do."  
"No kidding!" Prussia then replied, his voice maybe a little too loud, but he didn't care. "This was so _awesome_! Totally worth the passing out for a second –why was that, anyway? Oh, never mind, we'll figure it out." He felt like he could just burst out of his skin with energy, and his heart could grow wings any moment now and flutter out of his chest. He laughed for a moment, just like Hanover had done. Was this what it was like, forming an empire together? Combining their strengths? It was one of the best things he'd felt in a long, long time. "How to describe-? I feel like I'm stinking drunk without the negative things like nausea and headaches, something like that!"  
"Like I got one of Netherlands's _special_ cigarettes," Hanover agreed.  
Prussia remembered the one instance he'd smoked one of those, and nodded, laughing. "Totally high, in the good way. The best way possible!"  
"You're _acting_ like you're on a sugar rush," Württemberg sighed, trying to sound stern, but he too was smiling. "Both of you, calm down."  
"You know what?" Prussia replied light-heartedly. "Screw that! Come on, Württemberg, you must feel it too! Something went _right_ for once, like, really really good!" Then he realised which day it was, and he laughed again. "Hey, I just thought… we've got to celebrate this. And considering the date, it's on me, all right?"  
"For this many people?" Bavaria just asked him, smirking and fighting to hold back his laughter. "Are you serious?"  
Suddenly Prussia realised what he was saying. Of course he was talking about his family only, not the humans, but even then it would be very expensive to buy even one round of beer for everyone. But his siblings and cousins wouldn't let him go back on that promise now. He sighed, wondering what he had gotten himself, more precisely his savings, into. Hesse patted him on the shoulder with a smirk, and Prussia looked up at him with a helpless gaze. "I'm going to have to pay my age, don't I?"  
"Depends," the Hessian replied with eyes twinkling in joy. "How old are you now?"  
"679."  
"Ha. If only that was all."  
Hanover snickered as he came to stand on Prussia's other side, nudging him in the side. "You'll be broke after today. But no worries, bro, we're all one nation now, we'll share."

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Prussia was more busy than ever before. He travelled around the newly created German Empire to inspect the armies of the smaller states, which would now fall under Prussian rule. The larger states' armies could stay their own, albeit with adjustments to match Prussian military tactics. And since no one knew more about the Prussian army than Prussia himself, his king and now also emperor had sent him to take care of that. Also, governmental transitions like these always produced mountains of paperwork. There had to be a new constitution, too. Then there was the peace process with France after he'd won that war. It was almost enough to make him regret doing this. Of course he wasn't working alone, but he was doing most work as he was taking the lead of this empire. Some of his family members teased him about it, others were more sympathetic and offered to help when he was with them. He hadn't been home since the start of January, and the sheer amount of work to do basically forced him to overwork himself if he wanted to get it all done in time.  
By the time that happened, he was lucky enough to be with Württemberg, who was sensible enough not to make jokes about it or tease him or just don't care at all (he would've hated to be in this position in Hanover's home, for one).  
"So how much work do you have left to do?" the younger nation asked Prussia as he sat on his couch beside the albino.  
Prussia was shivering lightly, having a mild fever, and let out a shaky sigh. "A lot. I still haven't been to Baden and Bavaria. After that I can go home again."  
"No way," Württemberg protested, shaking his head determinedly. "Let me take care of whatever work I can do and take as much time as you can to relax, all right? Flawed as you may be, sometimes you just really work too hard."  
Prussia snorted, biting back a few chuckles. "Isn't that a flaw, too?"  
"…Perhaps." Then Württemberg sighed and gave him a rough poke in the shoulder. "But I'm serious, Prussia. You're _a little_ sick now, but if you keep working like this you won't recover anytime soon and it'll only get worse." Prussia nodded and was about to get up, saying that he would get them both something to drink, to which Württemberg tapped him on the legs to knock him back down onto the couch gently, and then got up to do it himself.  
Prussia huffed, crossing his arms over his chest crankily, following the younger nation with his gaze until he was out of sight. "Well, that's overkill," he muttered with a sigh. "I can easily take care of that myself."  
But he acted happier again when Württemberg came back in. The teenager was only trying to be polite, of course, and Prussia was grateful for that. When they'd sat together like that for some time, silent, Prussia turned to Württemberg tentatively. "How are you feeling lately?"  
The younger nation looked at him in surprise. "I'm… perfectly fine," he answered with a confused frown. "Why?"  
The Prussian looked away for a moment, worry sparking in his heart once again. "Well, not everyone is feeling so wonderful anymore," he explained softly. "Hanover, when I visited him two months ago, wasn't doing so well. He's been sick a lot and he's been losing weight and… and he's not the only one. Nassau, too, and some of the little states, the principalities. They don't have it as bad as Nassau and Hanover, though. But…"  
Württemberg looked worried about this, too, and a silence fell in the room again. Eventually he spoke up again, however. "I think… Hanover and Nassau are just… provinces, aren't they?" Prussia nodded, feeling sick. He'd been thinking about that, too. "Brandenburg was never reborn because she practically become your province, too."  
"Yes, but that didn't become official until a century later!" Prussia protested fiercely, trying hard to deny that he was the cause of even _more_ deaths or illness or anything bad within the family.  
Württemberg nodded quickly, mild fear flashing in his eyes, and Prussia forced himself to relax again. "Of course, and you had nothing to do with that," the younger nation said in a hurry, trying to avoid Prussia's anger. "But… maybe that's why Saxony never came back, too? Because such a big part of him became your province?"  
"And part of him is still a kingdom."  
"Well, and he was killed during wartime," Württemberg tried, getting uncomfortable now. Prussia was too defensive, and he could still get pretty angry in these situations. And no one liked having an angry Prussian in their homes.  
But that anger soon faded, and Prussia sighed deeply, hiding his face in his palms. "I don't know if this really the best thing I could've done for us," he mumbled, his voice soft and with a shiver of regret in it. But Württemberg just gave him a pat on the shoulder and told him not to give up on it so soon; the first months of this would naturally be the hardest, but soon enough everything would be fine.  
The younger nation then lightly touched Prussia's forehead, and sighed when he did so. "Warmer than when you got here," he concluded calmly as he moved his hand back to the Prussian's shoulder. "Why don't you just try and forget about all this for a moment and go to bed early tonight? Maybe in the morning your fever will be gone."  
Prussia just nodded and promised that he would try. It probably was best to forget about all these troubling matters, but that was easier said than done.

* * *

Prussia got home again by the start of October, by which time he felt a bit better again. He barely got time for himself at home, however, before he was called to his king and emperor again for something 'important'. That was all he had said about it. And when Prussia got there, he felt like his heart could give out.

 _3 October 1871_

 _This… Today was just… I don't even know how to write it, and usually my writing is better than my speaking, I can think better as I write, but this…  
How?  
My first thought when I came in was 'Saxony', but I just know that's wrong. This is Berlin, not Dresden. Württemberg was reborn in Stuttgart, Bavaria in Munich. Everyone is always born in their capital.  
So what is this… this THING doing in Berlin?!  
Brandenburg? But she's never going to be reincarnated now. She's had that chance for 102 years before she officially became my province and it never happened.  
There's only one possibility, really…_

Prussia felt shaky as he looked at the child Wilhelm I showed him. What was he supposed to do with this? What was he supposed to _think_?  
Wilhelm was a lot calmer about it than Prussia, and didn't seem to understand why his kingdom was reacting like this. "I think you and I both know who this is, am I right?" the old human asked with a smile, standing up from where he sat and walking over to the kingdom's side, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "You've done well, Prussia," he praised the albino, whose head was spinning again like it was on the day the German Empire had been formed. "Without your efforts, this wouldn't have happened. It's a glorious day, isn't it?"  
Prussia just nodded silently, but he didn't think as he was doing so. His mind was reeling. How? When? Why? He looked down at the tiny baby wide-eyed, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the little boy stare back up at him with big, icy blue eyes. _Holy Rome…_ He looked so much like the late empire. Like Germania too, going by the few hazy memories Prussia had of seeing him in dreams. If those instances had really been his father of course. He wasn't sure.  
"Go on, Prussia," Wilhelm insisted carefully. "He isn't made of poison or anything. Pick him up."  
Tentatively the kingdom followed orders, reaching for the baby. He squirmed as Prussia touched him, a squeal coming from his mouth, and the albino pulled his hands back again. Why did this child freak him out so much? It was just a baby. Nothing malicious about it, nothing threatening. Just… just a baby. He took a deep breath and tried again, lifting the boy up and holding him in his arms carefully.  
The baby squealed again, staring up at the albino with his bright blue eyes, then reached out to him with his two tiny hands. He could barely reach Prussia's chin like that, and the kingdom just let him poke his chin and jaw as much as he liked. He was too stunned to do anything but stare.  
Beside him, Wilhelm I chuckled. "He seems to like you," he commented warmly. "That's good. He'll be your responsibility, Prussia."  
The nation nodded, a lump in his throat preventing him from breathing properly. He had seen it coming, but he wasn't looking forward to raising this child. But why not? He'd always liked doing that in the past. _Yes,_ a voice in his head then retorted, _together with Brandenburg you did, or when it was a human. This is different._  
Then he shook his head, looking at the old human beside him. "I have nothing for him in my home," he protested feebly. "Nothing –no bed, no… nothing to eat… _nothing_."  
"That's all right," Wilhelm replied calmly. "We'll make sure you'll have everything you need." He was quiet for a moment, inspecting Prussia, who didn't seem to calm down yet. He sighed. "Prussia, it'll be all right. I have all faith in you. You can do this."  
The child yawned then, and closed his eyes, snuggling up to the Prussian in whose arms he lay, and it was only when he felt the baby sleepily rest his cheek against his chest like that, that Prussia felt more at ease. How could a little baby make him so nervous? It was such an innocent, harmless little thing. He looked down at him again after staring at his king for a few moments, only to see the child basically back asleep already. The sight made his heart melt.  
Whether he liked it or not, this child was his family. He was his tiny little brother, and if it was up to him to take care of him now, then he would take that task upon himself like he did anything else. He adjusted his hold on the little boy, holding him with one arm, and carefully ran his fingers through his soft blonde hair.  
"Welcome to the family… Germany."

Weeks later, the entire family was gathered in Berlin to meet the new-born empire. Everyone was excited about it, though some less than others. And then there were a few things not everyone agreed with.  
"So remind me again why _you're_ raising him?" Bavaria demanded with a huff.  
"Are you sure it's not Saxony?" Hanover asked, then, not giving Prussia a chance to answer Bavaria's question. "I mean, he…"  
"No, he's definitely Germany," Prussia replied, then glaring at Bavaria. "And the reason I'm raising him, prick, is because _your emperor_ said so. Deal with it." Bavaria glared back at him, and they kept doing so until Hesse stepped in and told them both to cut it out. Things between Prussia and Bavaria had always been rocky at best, but this was one of the relationships that had declined since the establishment of the Empire. Prussia just cleared his throat, about to say something else when suddenly Germany started crying.  
Brunswick, who had been holding the little baby, stiffened at this, her eyes growing wide. She then looked at her siblings and cousins. "It wasn't me!" she squeaked, clearly not knowing what to do. "I didn't do anything, he just… started crying!" She looked back down at Germany and tried to shush him gently, but he didn't respond. Prussia decided to watch it for a little while longer before he would step in, just to see if she could figure it out on her own. "Oh, please, Germany… Please go to sleep, sweetie, it's all right now. They've stopped fighting, see?"  
Prussia smiled at this. Did she really not hear it? "He's just hungry," he told her after she'd kept this up for two minutes. "Honestly, it does not surprise me; it's past lunch time for the little thing. I completely forgot for a moment, talking to you guys." He got to his feet then, laughing for a moment before he'd get something for the little one to drink. "But then, he has this nice built-in alarm that lets me know when he needs food every day and every night without fail! Oh, the joy…" He had already been tired, but it had gotten worse over the past weeks. Germany demanded constant attention, day and night, and Prussia had had some sleepless nights already.

* * *

Minutes later he sat down again, having given Brunswick a bottle so that she could feed the newest addition to their family. He just gave instructions as he watched her: "Hold him a little bit straighter, like he's sitting. We don't want him to choke." Or: "He can be stubborn sometimes and refuse to drink, but if he doesn't, he'll start crying again minutes from now, so be persistent." And also: "He'll fall asleep after this, so if everyone could be a little more quiet…"  
Hanover sighed deeply, staring from Germany to Prussia and back again with a look of disbelief. "You know," he began in a tired voice –he still wasn't doing well, "it's kind of unbelievable how well you've adapted to this."  
"Sure is," Bavaria agreed, smirking at Prussia. "The day I got a letter saying that there was a little personification of Germany around now and that he was under _your_ care, I said a prayer for the poor tyke's soul."  
"Prussia isn't that bad a brother, actually," Württemberg put in, smiling a little as he said that. "He can be surprisingly fatherly… Brotherly I mean…" His cheeks growing red at this, he averted his gaze uneasily.  
Hesse, who knew the story of how Württemberg in his first years had thought of Prussia and Brandenburg as his parents before learning that they were his cousins or siblings instead, only chuckled and patted him on the head, for which Württemberg told him 'not to be so patronising over it'.  
Baden began laughing then. "Look at Prussia! He's all red, too!" The others looked at the Prussian now, too, who only blushed more under their stares, and they all laughed.  
Only to fall silent when Germany joined them with a loud, happy squeal, staring at the baby in surprise.  
"So what happened to the 'he'll fall asleep after eating', Prussia?" Bavaria asked, though he didn't sound cranky now. Instead he was smiling warmly as he looked at Germany, who was glancing around at all his siblings with round, curious eyes.  
Brunswick then lifted him up a bit, holding him up higher so that their eyes were on the same level. The baby's blue irises twinkled as he looked at his big sister. She seemed to melt. "Aww, but isn't he just the cutest little thing ever?" she said warmly, sighing. "I don't want him to fall asleep yet; he's too cute when he's curious like this!"  
Württemberg leant in closer to Prussia then, asking in a whisper: "Should we warn her?"  
the Prussian just shook his head, biting back his laughter. "Nope. This is going to be good."  
Only seconds later, their prediction came true: Germany suddenly fell quiet from his cute, soft little squeals and babbling, being very still in Brunswick's arms for a moment. Everyone else stopped talking as well, and the young woman seemed to realise what was coming a second before it did. She cringed when the tiny baby barfed on her, however, even though she had seen it coming just in time, a shiver visibly going down her spine.  
Laughing loudly now, Prussia got up and took him from her, holding his little brother gently. " _Now_ he will fall asleep," he answered Bavaria's earlier question before sitting back down again, hugging Germany closer carefully, waiting for him to fall asleep in his arms like he did every day.  
From there on everyone talked more softly, hoping not to disturb their tiny new brother. Prussia waited until he felt the boy's breathing become steady and deep, then looked up at his family. Quietly he asked if he could propose something. This was a thing that he had privately decided on already, but he wanted their consent before he would make it official. "I've been wondering," he began softly, looking down at his precious little brother. "I know that many of us don't have one yet, but in society as it is now… Ever since the Age of Enlightenment, really, not so many people still believe that we are real. Personifications of nations. So…"  
"Get to the point already," Bavaria urged him on in a mutter.  
"I was thinking that Germany needs a human name as well. At least until he's old enough to be acknowledged by the people as being Germany. I can't imagine our people accepting a baby to be their immortal representation." Hesse nodded, agreeing to that. He remembered the reactions people had to Holy Rome –a child representing an empire. They just didn't understand most of the time. Prussia smiled at this. "Exactly the person I want to talk about. He looks so much like Holy Rome…"  
Hanover nodded, leaning in closer to look at the child. "They could've been twins," he commented softly.  
Prussia looked back down at Germany, fast asleep in his arms, and it warmed his heart once again.  
"…So how about we name him Ludwig?"

* * *

 **So, Germany's here!**

 **The next and last chapter will have heartbreak and cute fluffiness, hopefully balanced out.** **Hope to Die will probably start right after Cross Your Heart ends, but then, I'm going to have a few crazy weeks with school starting tomorrow and appointments and my job starting again and... gaaah... real life coming back.**

 **(Also I dug into some history last week that I hadn't paid much attention to before and I realised a horribly stupid mistake that I've kept up for several chapters. You won't be seeing a certain very minor side character anymore. Blame my internet sources for using one name at times and then the other one, but never ever clarifying that they were in fact the same thing... Oooh, I feel so stupid. Why no one has mentioned this mistake to me before, I have no idea... Maybe you all hadn't noticed it yet, either? Good XD )**

 **So yeah. I'm more ashamed of that certain mistake than any historic inconsistency I've had so far. Probably because I'm learning German in school and I should know this.**

 **Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and thanks so much for reading again!**


	57. Chapter 57

**So here it is, the very last chapter of Cross Your Heart!**

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favourited... just thanks to everyone who has read this till the end! (and those who haven't, too! but... they won't be getting this message, now will they?)  
You guys have been so awesome over the past year. In total you've written 200 lovely, amazing reviews up to this point, 62 people have favourited it and 81 people have been following my work! For an author, this is just _such a compliment_ , thank you all so much for this!**

 **Well now... I hope you'll enjoy the last chapter!**

* * *

The years passed quickly, and Germany grew up quicker than Prussia had seen any nation do. He seemed to grow at half a human pace, and by 1875 he was like a little 2-year-old toddler. He could walk, albeit it slow and wobbly, as that was the first thing Prussia decided to teach him when he seemed to develop a sense of balance. The little empire also knew the basics of his language, but could really only ask basic questions and give even less than basic answers. Still Prussia was proud of him.  
Also, the kingdom wasn't the only one caring for Germany anymore. Wilhelm had given his consent fairly quickly to have the boy raised by other members of the family, too. He'd been with Hanover for 3 months over the past years, with Hesse for 4 months, spent a few weeks at Brunswick's place and had even been as far as Württemberg and Bavaria. He'd never met Austria or Hungary yet, however, and had only briefly seen Belgium, Luxembourg and Netherlands, when the siblings came over for a quick visit to meet Germany. Switzerland didn't want to get involved, as always.  
Right now the little boy would be headed to Hanover again, as it was Prussia's turn to get a break from raising him. Germany was cute, he was plain adorable, he was everything Prussia could ever wish for in a little baby brother but he was _such a handful._ But he hadn't received word back from Hanover yet, so for now, little Germany was still in Berlin with him.

"Ludwig?" Prussia called to his little brother, searching around the house for him. One of the reasons he was such a handful to take care of, was because he had a tendency to just go off on his own and not respond when he was being called, even though he knew what it meant when he heard his name being called like that. He never left the house on his own, though, which was a relief. "Ludwig, _please,_ I don't have time for this!" To make matters worse, there was a knock on the door, and Prussia grunted. He hadn't expected guests, and he didn't want any.  
Muttering under his breath, he went to the door, only to basically freeze on the spot when he saw Otto von Bismarck. He didn't really know how to respond to this, really, but Germany seemed to take care of that problem when he appeared out of thin air beside his big brother, startling the life out of him when he squeaked happily: "Biscuit!"  
Both Prussia and Bismarck became red at this, Prussia out of embarrassment, Bismarck most likely out of anger, but then the human sighed deeply. "Let's pretend this never happened, shall we?"  
Prussia nodded all too gladly and invited the human in, still confused over why he was there in the first place. The elderly human smiled at Germany as the boy hobbled after him when he walked inside, only to stumble and fall and get back to his feet again. Bismarck sat down on a wooden chair at Prussia's dining table, and the Prussian followed his example silently. Germany bounced past him, headed for Bismarck, but before he could bother the human any more, Prussia scooped him up off the floor and promptly placed him on his lap instead. The toddler squirmed for only a moment, still trying to get to the human he knew and liked (Prussia wondered how he viewed the man, really), but he gave up soon after.  
Prussia stared at the German Chancellor for a moment, still trying to figure out why he was here. Bismarck seemed to notice his confusion, and started explaining without Prussia having to ask him anything.  
"I'm here about Germany, Prussia," he began calmly, nodding to the energetic toddler on the kingdom's lap. He cleared his throat for a second, then took a deep breath. "I believe it is harmful to the boy if he were to continue being raised by so many different family members."  
"Harmful?" Prussia echoed, not sure if he was supposed to be offended by that, or confused, or anything. "How… how is being with his family harmful?" This was such nonsense! It just didn't make sense. Sure, Prussia was the most awesome out of all Germany's siblings, but that didn't mean they didn't have the right to raise him as well. Prussia _wanted_ them to have a hand in it, even. What would they all think if they weren't involved with Germany in any way? That would cause trouble which Prussia didn't want.  
Bismarck started explaining. "He is… blissfully unaware of anything as of yet," the human said with a sigh, "but when he gets older, it won't be like that anymore. Life will no doubt be confusing if he is to be raised by different members of the family. For one, you're a protestant, Bavaria is catholic."  
Prussia wanted to say something in protest to that being a problem, but honestly, he couldn't think of anything, so he kept his mouth shut.  
"Württemberg, Baden and Bavaria are still more pro-French than I like, while here in the north we're most definitely against the French."  
Yet again, Prussia couldn't say anything against it. But he still didn't like where this was going.  
"There are still cultural and political differences between the different states of our empire that would have a negative effect on the boy if he were to be raised following all these different cultures."  
"But he has to," Prussia protested, subconsciously pulling Germany against him on his lap. "How else would he be able to represent all these different people? I know it'll be hard, but we can manage. I know we can. And _he_ can take it, too –he has the Awesome Me's genes, I'm certain he's as intelligent as I am, so he can learn it all, I've no doubt."  
But Bismarck sighed and shook his head, then took something out of his pocket; a crumpled envelope. "There won't be any need for letters such as these anymore, Prussia," he told the albino kingdom, handing the envelope to him.  
Prussia immediately recognised his own handwriting. It was the letter he'd sent to Hanover a few weeks ago, to check with his brother if it was okay to bring Germany his way. Anger flared up in him, and he stared at the human with blazing red eyes. "You intercepted my letter?" he demanded angrily, raising his voice. Germany shrunk back on his lap, pressing closer to his brother, startled by it. "You-! You don't have the right!"  
"No letter of yours was ever intercepted, Prussia," Bismarck answered calmly, leaning forward and tapping the envelope. "I promise you."  
Still seething with anger, Prussia looked down and stared at the crumpled paper again. How had he not noticed? Next to his own handwriting were two words he hadn't written himself, added later:  
 _Addressee unknown_  
These two words extinguished the fire that had flared up in Prussia just seconds ago, and left nothing but an icy cold. What? Addressee unknown? It had happened before that letters Prussia had sent, or that had been sent to him, didn't always find their way to the right person immediately, not every courier shrugged it off as someone being drunk when the addressee was a nation, but this hadn't happened before.  
Prussia didn't notice he was trembling until Germany tugged at his shirt, staring up at him with big, glassy eyes. "It bad, brother?" he asked nervously, shrinking away from the Prussian as much as he could while seated on his lap. Prussia didn't answer, and after a little while Germany struggled to stand up on his brother's lap, leaning against him to keep his balance, and carefully stroking his big brother's face. "No cry."  
Quickly Prussia wiped away the tears he hadn't even known were there, kissed Germany on his forehead to thank the boy for his efforts before placing him on the floor beside him, then glared murderously at Bismarck. "Get out," he muttered darkly, his body growing tense. The envelope and his letter were being crushed in his hand as he clenched it into a fist, and something of fear flashed in Bismarck's eyes; he knew he had gone too far with giving this letter back to Prussia in the way that he had. But the human didn't respond yet, and now Prussia got to his feet and repeated louder: " _Get out._ " But still no true reaction from Bismarck, only that he seemed to want to get away from Prussia as soon as possible. The kingdom threw the crumpled paper in the human's face, who then jumped to his feet and backed away from Prussia as he screamed at him: "I said _get out of my house!_ NOW! Goddammit, _GET OUT!_ "  
After this, it took Bismarck only seconds to leave, and Prussia stood staring at the door for a little while, his mind reeling with the meaning of those two words… 'addressee unknown'…  
But then Germany started sniffling from where he sat on the floor, staring up at his big brother. He'd never seen Prussia this angry before, and the kingdom immediately felt bad for scaring him. He shushed him and picked him up, holding him gently and saying soft words of reassurance to calm him down. But his own heart was racing in panic.  
When he'd gotten Germany quiet again, he kissed him on the cheek, still holding him tightly in his arms. "We're going to Hanover," he whispered to him. "Right now, we're going right now, all right? Wait here, I'll pack our stuff and then we're leaving."  
"Why we go?" Germany squeaked, hobbling after Prussia when the kingdom walked away in a rush. But he couldn't keep up, stumbled and fell down, sitting up and waiting where he sat, sniffling again softly.  
But Prussia didn't answer anymore. All he could think off now was how he had to get to Hanover as quickly as possible and see what was going on for himself.

* * *

But when he got to Hanover, he couldn't find his brother anywhere. He asked around, but all humans who even knew of Hanover said they hadn't seen him around for some time. Stressed out by this, Prussia decided to ask questions with the nearest of his cousins; Mecklenburg.  
But it was the same story there. And with Nassau, and Waldeck, and Brunswick and Hesse. He'd given up hope by the time he reached Stuttgart and Württemberg was also nowhere to be found.  
By then Germany began to understand that Prussia was desperately searching for their family but couldn't find them, and he seemed saddened by it too, though he didn't seem to understand the real problem.  
"This can't be true," Prussia frantically muttered to himself one day. "This can't be true. Tell me it isn't true. _Please,_ let it be a nightmare… just a nightmare…"  
"Bad dream?" Germany asked softly, staring at his brother with blue eyes shimmering sadly. He only seemed to understand that Prussia was distraught about not seeing his family, but no more than that.  
Prussia just nodded. "Yes, just a bad dream. That's all it is… all it is…"  
Baden wasn't there. Bavaria couldn't be found.  
It was like they had all disappeared from the face of the Earth.  
Germany sat on Prussia's lap in Bavaria's empty home, hugging his big brother, who sat lost in thought. But at the same time his mind was empty. Prussia didn't think, he didn't feel, but at the same time his head was spinning and his heart aching. _Has my family disappeared?_ he wondered blankly. _Are they dead? Are they alive? Where are they? What happened?_  
Where could he go to now? Back to Berlin? But what could he accomplish there? He wouldn't find his lost family in Berlin, that was for certain. He didn't want to have to face Bismarck again, either, though he had absolutely no proof that the man had anything to do with the disappearance of his family. Something in his heart told him it was Bismarck's doing, but he wouldn't pin the blame on him until he had proof, no matter how much he wanted to do so. But he had to see someone now, just someone, to know that not all of his family was gone. And…  
There was only one place he could think of to go to now.

* * *

"Have you heard anything from Bavaria yet?" Hungary asked, and Austria shook his head with a deep sigh. He didn't understand why Bavaria was ignoring him; they'd always had such a good relationship, even after the establishment of the German Empire. Now he wasn't responding to Austria's letters anymore. Hungary looked at him with worry flashing in her green eyes, then tapped the spot next to her on the couch. "Just sit down, try to relax. I'm sure he'll respond soon. Maybe the courier lost the letter? Wouldn't be the first time."  
Austria nodded and sat down, and Hungary handed him the glass of wine she'd just poured for him. He was about to take a sip from that when there was a knock on the door. It sounded stressed out, desperate, and it startled both nations. Hungary seemed ready to jump to her feet, but Austria was faster. "I'll get it," he said quickly, flashing her a warm smile. "Stay here."  
He rushed to the door, wondering who would come at this hour at night –it was near midnight after all. He was almost reluctant in opening the door, but just as he started to hesitate there was another knock, louder, sounding terrified. There was another sound, almost like a whimper, and then Austria didn't waste time standing around anymore and opened the door.  
He was more than just shocked to see Prussia standing there. The albino looked paler than ever, his eyes rimmed with red, and he was trembling where he stood. For a moment Austria spotted a little blonde boy standing behind Prussia, hiding shyly, and he realised this must be Germany. Then, before he could ask what was going on, why they were there, Prussia basically tackled him. He swung his arms around Austria and held him tightly, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. The kingdom clung to Austria like the empire was the only thing keeping him alive. Then, out of the blue, he started crying. Austria couldn't move, wondering what was going on. Why was Prussia here? What had made him so distraught?  
Hungary came in now, too, gasping in shock when she saw Prussia clinging to her husband like that and crying.  
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Prussia cried, his words muffled by Austria's shoulder. The Austrian looked over his shoulder at Hungary, wide-eyed, as if to ask her if she knew what was going on. But she looked as confused as him now. "I tried, I tried to find them, but they're not there anymore and-!"  
 _What is he talking about?_ Austria wondered, panicking slightly as he wrapped his arms around Prussia to return the embrace, hoping to be soothing. He'd thought the day would never come that he would do this, though. Prussia had hugged him once before, as much on impulse as this now was, but in all the centuries they'd known each other this was the first time that Austria hugged him back. "It's all right, Prussia," he said softly, "really, it's all right. Why are you here? What's going on?"  
But though the Prussian seemed to be calming down a little bit, he wasn't ready to answer these questions yet, first biting back his frantic sobs. Germany appeared to want to have a say now, too, as the little boy looked at his big brother and then to Austria and Hungary in turn before staring at Prussia again. "No cry, brother," he said in a soft, nervous voice, tapping Prussia's leg.  
At this, Prussia stiffened and he was immediately quiet except for the inevitable sniffling, let go of Austria and knelt down in front of the little boy. "I'm sorry, Ludwig," he whispered, his voice quivering with held back tears. He patted the toddler on the head carefully, then kissed him on the cheek and said some more words of reassurance to him. Austria was amazed. Since when was Prussia so… gentle?  
But holding back his emotions for the sake of Germany didn't seem to do the albino any good, so Austria reluctantly told them both to come into the living room with him and Hungary.  
Prussia looked up at him and gave a single, grateful nod, his eyes still glassy with tears as he picked the little toddler up and carried him to the living room. He held Germany on his lap as he sat down, carefully stroking his hair as he sat there. He didn't speak yet as Hungary and Austria sat down with him, and the two looked at each other for a moment, feeling unsure of what to do. But then Hungary leant in a little closer to Germany, her eyes warm and kind as she started talking to him. "Hey there, sweetie," she began carefully, but still the little empire pressed closer to his brother in an attempt to hide from the woman. Hungary just went on, though. "You look tired. Am I right?"  
Now the toddler nodded tentatively, but his lips still pressed tightly together. "It's okay," Prussia told him softly, absent-mindedly. "That's Hungary. She and I have been friends basically all my life. She's really nice, you'll like her." Only then did the toddler seem to relax a little in her presence, and Prussia then patted him on the cheek gently to catch his attention again, pointing at Austria. "And he's our cousin Austria. He's… nice." The Prussian hugged his little brother for a moment. "You'll like them both, and I'm sure they like you, too. All right? They're… family."  
Hungary then tried again to say what she had wanted to tell Germany: "I have a bed you can sleep in, sweetie. Shall I bring you there?" She then picked the little boy up from Prussia's lap and went off with him, smiling as Prussia thanked her softly.  
When they were out of earshot, Austria leant in closer to Prussia. "What's wrong, Prussia?" he asked again. "What… Why are you here?"  
Tears sprang back in the albino's red eyes, and he gritted his teeth for a moment before answering softly: "I… I couldn't find anyone in our family. It's like they all disappeared, I…" Fear flashed in his eyes, and he looked at Austria in sheer panic. "What if they're all dead? They… they can't be, right?"  
Austria's stomach twisted painfully. _Is this why Bavaria hasn't answered yet?_ "I'm sure it's not that," he choked out, though he wasn't convinced of that himself. "I'm sure it's… it's…"  
"But how, _why_ would none of them be in their capitals when I'm searching?" Prussia protested, his voice quivering with fear and uncertainty again. If he'd been to every state's capitals, then he must've been away from home for several weeks already, Austria realised. And whatever had happened or not happened in those weeks must've distressed him greatly. He was very unlike himself, being so open about his emotions concerning this, his worries and his fears. It got Austria more worried, too. Prussia's breathing came in quick gulps of air like he was close to hyperventilation, the clearest sign of his distress yet. "Austria, they're _gone!_ They're all gone, all of them, just disappeared like that! And I sent Hanover a letter if he could take care of Germany and it was sent back with 'Addressee unknown' and I don't get why it would say that, and-!"  
"Ssshhh, I don't hear half of what you're saying," Austria told him as calmly as he could. "Easy now, Prussia, easy. It's all right."  
"But it's not!" the albino protested, shaking his head fiercely. "It's not all right, _it's not!_ Not until I find out what happened to them!" He broke off abruptly, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, trying hard not to cry again, but it didn't work out that way.  
Especially when, this time, Austria took the initiative in wrapping his arms around his cousin, and within seconds they were back in the position they'd been in minutes ago; Prussia desperately clinging to his older cousin in his panic, crying, and Austria trying to soothe him a bit. Only this time, after having heard what caused the albino to be like this, Austria himself couldn't hold back his own tears, either. He denied it in his words, but in his heart he knew very well that, somehow, everyone in the family had died. Been killed, maybe? But by whom, and how? They couldn't just have disappeared; even if for some reason they'd lost their status as nations, they would live on for some time at least, like Holy Rome had. That they'd all been murdered was the most logical conclusion he could come to, but he didn't want to believe that. Who would do such an atrocious thing, after all?  
For a moment, the Austrian stiffened. _Prussia…_ But no, his emotions were too real. He honestly had no idea what had happened, that much was clear. And even if he'd killed his entire family, he wouldn't be crying over it like this, in total panic and grief and confusion.  
And then another realisation hit him, like a shard of ice piercing his heart. Saxony had proven that Germany was too united to have any need of separate personifications. They would live on if nothing happened, but if they somehow did die, they wouldn't be reborn.  
"You're basically all I have left," Prussia whispered shakily, echoing Austria's thoughts. "Switzerland, Liechtenstein, the Benelux, you and me… we're all that's left of our family."  
So many were gone now. Germany had consisted of 27 states, of which 11 had been represented by less people, 4 to be precise, like Prussia had once represented Royal Prussia and the Duchy of Prussia both. Then there were Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg, and since recently Germany himself, too. Of the 27 people that had been part of this family until recently, only 7 remained. If, of course, the states of the German Empire minus Prussia were the only ones to have disappeared.  
Prussia held Austria tighter now, having calmed down again. "I'm not going to fight you again," he said softly, his voice still shaky from all his crying. "Never. It's not worth the risk to lose you, too. I…" He trailed off, hesitating for a moment. "I don't want to lose anyone else."  
Austria nodded, unable to speak, but agreeing with every word. He now understood how Holy Rome had been able to say for centuries that he wanted to be the next to die, that he didn't want to bury anyone else anymore. He felt like that now, too.  
Hungary came back in then, quietly standing to the side as the two cousins almost reluctantly let go of one another again. Then, when they both sat silently there, she suggested carefully: "Maybe it's a good idea for you to sleep, too, Gil? You look exhausted."  
It took Prussia a little while to respond, but then he just nodded and slowly got to his feet, shoulders slumped. "I'll… I think I'll join little Ludwig, then. We've done that before sometimes, when he had nightmares. I…"  
Hungary smiled warmly and placed her hand on his shoulder. "And this time it's you who needs it," she guessed in a soft voice. She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek then, but Prussia didn't even react to that. He was really out of it, his thoughts with his lost family. Hungary seemed to understand that, too. "Second door to the right. I hope you'll get some sleep, Prussia."  
"Me too…"

* * *

Prussia waited in the hallway for a moment; Austria was explaining what Prussia had told him to Hungary. She cried out that it wasn't true, it couldn't be. Austria was biting back his sobs. Hungary didn't even try. It broke Prussia's heart to listen to. Why was it, that if he wasn't the cause of bad news, he was the bringer of it?  
With a deep sigh, he walked up the stairs and went to the second door to the right, as Hungary had instructed him to do. He carefully opened the door, not wanting to wake his little brother if he was already asleep, or startle him if he was still awake. But when he walked in, Germany lay still. Relieved, Prussia softly closed the door behind him, looking at his tiny brother for a moment. How would he explain all this to him, if he didn't even know how to explain it to himself? But he would never sleep if he kept thinking about it. Somehow he had to find distraction.  
He took of his clothes, folded them and put them away as silently as he could, then very carefully moved Germany to one side of the bed so that he had space for himself too. At this, the little toddler shifted and sleepily opened his eyes. His blue irises twinkled when he saw Prussia. "Brother!" he squeaked happily, moving closer to his big brother the moment he lay down beside Germany, then wrapping his arms around his neck. "Why you sad, brother?"  
Prussia didn't answer, only held the little empire close and gave him a kiss on his head. Germany didn't seem to think anything of Prussia's silence, and instead contently fell asleep against him. Prussia forced himself to relax as much as he could, but eventually thoughts about his family came back anyway.  
"You and me, kid," he whispered to Germany, closing his eyes with a sigh. "We're all that's left of the German Empire. I'll never let anything happen to you, I promise. As long as I'm alive, you won't ever be alone. I'll make sure of it." Once again, warm tears pricked in his eyes, but he forced them back this time. "It hurts to be alone, Ludwig. It really _hurts._ I pray you'll never feel what it's like to be all on your own with no one to turn to. I'll do anything in my power to prevent that from happening to you. You hear me? You can count on your big brother, Ludwig… I promise."  
But though he was calm now, he didn't feel anywhere near well enough to sleep yet. How could he sleep before he'd solved this mystery?  
The only explanation for their sudden disappearance, was that everyone but him and Germany was dead. The only way they could have died just like that was if they had been killed. The only way they could've been killed was by another nation.  
Whether it had been that nation's –or nations'- own initiative to kill them all, or if they had been told to do so, _someone_ had killed off nearly his entire family. Whoever it was, for whatever reason they'd done it, he would find them.  
And for taking everything from him, they would all feel the wrath of Prussia.  
All of them.

 _~To be continued~_

* * *

 **!**

 **For this once, I don't have a preview for the sequel, because I haven't thought of a summary yet... but I think you can guess, right? And I've already told you guys what Hope to Die will be about...**

 **Which, mind you, will be posted this weekend ;)**

 **Once again, thank you so so much! I'm sorry for the angst in the last chapter, it's not my style to end a story on a dark tone like this, but it just wouldn't work otherwise... I think.**

 **I hope to see you all again on Hope to Die!**


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